A Lesson in Rebellion
by ames 449
Summary: Set in the aftermath of Fannysmackin'.How does Greg react to the fact he killed someone and how does he deal with the new CSI when he discovers she wants his job? However Greg begins to realise there is more to worry about than his job, his life being one
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_Fists lashed out, pounding his arms, chest, and legs. Pain erupted across his body like nothing he had ever experienced before. The attack was unrelenting, unforgiving and born of pure anger. His vision swam as he felt something in his side snap. Probably a rib, he thought absently as he tried to crawl away from their brutality. But they would not let him. They would not grant him that reprieve. They wanted to hurt him and there was no way they would let him escape this attack. As further kicks were lashed against his broken body he knew he was going to die. He didn't know how much more his body could take. He could feel warm blood pouring down his face as he lay still, resigned to his fate. They were too many. He could not fight them all. He wanted to speak, to beg them to stop but his mouth would not work. No sound left his lips. His last hope resided on the dispatch arriving. Five minutes ETA she had said. He didn't think he would last two. He was already beginning to drift in and out of consciousness. He couldn't take much more of this. The pain was too much. He didn't even have the energy to be afraid any more. Every inch of his body ached and throbbed. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. He didn't even attempt to move off the ground as they continued to beat him. He was too hurt. Too tired. His mouth was filling with his own blood and he turned his head to the side, coughing it up. He didn't want to choke on it. He didn't want to die like this. In the back of his mind he knew it was no longer his choice. It was out of his hands. _

Greg awoke with a gasp. Disorientated, perspiration beaded on his brow and trickled down his back. As he leaned over to his night stand and flicked the lamp on he was almost amazed to see he was in his own bedroom. For a brief second he merely stared around the familiar surroundings, half expecting it to disappear into that alley way. It did not however and after a few minutes he threw the blankets back and rose carefully from his bed, his hand automatically holding his bandaged side. It had seemed so real, too real. Running his fingers through his sweaty hair he sighed deeply, trying to pull himself together and headed into the kitchen.

The nightmares had begun the first night after his attack. That had been almost three weeks ago. They came every night with renewed ferocity. Sometimes he relived his own beating by the hands of the gang, other times he saw Demetrius James disappearing under the bonnet of the denali. There were others that were worse, much worse, but he tried to push them out of his mind knowing he would not be able to rest at all if he didn't. The images haunted him. The guilt of killing the university student ate at him constantly. He couldn't remember the last time he slept properly.

Pulling the fridge door open he sighed, wishing he had thought to go shopping. It was disturbingly empty. He tried to recall the last time he had eaten a proper meal but he couldn't. Details of the last few weeks completely escaped him. Time had seemingly passed in a haze of nightmares and isolation. Slamming it shut he headed over to the sink instead and ran the tap whilst looking for a clean glass. He filled and emptied the contents of it in four gulps, placing it on the side before glancing up at the clock on the wall. He knew the night shift would just be heading into the lab and wished he was there.

He had been placed on leave for a month to recover but sitting at home was driving him insane. He couldn't sleep and his colleagues slept through the day time meaning he had no release from the prison that had become his apartment. Nick had visited once or twice in the first week after his release from hospital as had Sara and even Warrick but their visits had become diminished since and as a result Greg felt hopelessly secluded. He understood that they had lives of their own - after all his own life was usually completely engulfed by working - but even so the insipid drudgery of recovering was taking its toll on him. He lived and breathed the crime lab. Not being there left him feeling strangely empty. It was all he had. All his friends worked there and with no girlfriend and no family here he had nothing to fill his time with. It was depressing.

He needed to get out of his apartment. He needed to do something. Anything. Sitting at home left him far too much time to ponder over what had happened and pondering over what had happened only made his mood sink lower. He didn't want to keep doing this. He wanted to put it out of his mind. He hadn't meant to kill that boy. He had been trying to protect himself and the man the gang were attacking but even so it had been his fault he had died. He had run the SUV right into him and as a result Demetrius James was dead. Try as he might Greg could not let that go. He was a murderer. By rights he belonged in jail. The law viewed it differently however. Restraint in certain circumstances was allowed. Greg had feared for his life and as such had reacted to protect himself and the other victim. That Demetrius James was dead was sad but according to the police he had used reasonable force under the circumstances. His brief had already assured him the courts would probably give him a slap on the wrists and nothing more. Greg almost wanted them to lock him up. Perhaps it would stop these guilt ridden nightmares.

He headed into the bathroom, flicked the shower on and moved over to the sink. As he did so he caught his reflection and took a moment to study it. The bruises had all but faded now, although the cut to his head was still clearly visible due to the stitches he had needed. Thirteen in total, the wound was seared into his skin forever: a scar of his attack, and a constant reminder of what he had done. Every time he ran his fingers over that raised area he would remember the boy he had killed. _Demetrius James_. He would never forget that name.

Greg wondered if he could ever get passed this. Absently, he wondered if he should be _allowed_ to get passed this. Murder was still murder, whether intentional or in self-defence. Whatever the reasoning behind it a boy was still dead. Rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger he sank onto the toilet seat and passed a weary hand over his face. Other than his head wound he had received three broken ribs which were healing slowly and a sprained wrist. Considering the pounding he had taken Greg had come out of the whole thing remarkably unscathed. But not all scars are visible and although he was physically healing, his mental well-being was another matter entirely.

Stepping into the shower he stuck his head under the steaming hot water and leaned his good hand against the tiled wall. Letting the water run off his skin he was oblivious to everything other than this simple act. He wished he could wash the blood off his hands as easily but nothing could ever erase what he had done. Somehow or another he would have to learn to live with it.

By the time he stepped out of the cubicle the water had run cold and grabbing a towel he wrapped it around his waist before making his way back into the bedroom. Knowing he wouldn't sleep now he pulled on some clean sweat pants, but left the bandage off. It wasn't really doing anything anyway and only served to irritate him. Brushing his fingers through his wet hair he headed back into the living room and switched the TV on.

There was nothing on and despite having over a hundred and fifty channels on his recently installed cable – Nick's bright idea, not his - he ended up flicking it onto the news and half-heartedly listened to the reporter talking about murders, criminals, and all the usual crap Greg usually worked against. Absently he wondered if the team were working on any of the stories she was talking about but decided it was better not to think about it. Doing so made him yearn even more to be back at work and that only served to upset him further. It was a little after eight in the morning before he finally sank into a restless sleep.

At first he wasn't sure what had woken him but when he finally roused himself properly he realised someone was knocking on his door. The TV was still droning in the background and he flickered his eyes to the bottom of the screen noting the time. It was 10:30am. At least he had gotten a couple of hours sleep.

Pushing himself to his feet, he half staggered across the room. His body hadn't quite woken up properly and it took him a moment to fumble with the security chain before he pulled the door open.

"Hey." Greg blinked as the sunlight hit him, wishing he didn't have a ground floor apartment with an outside door. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Nick took a moment to study him. "You look like hell man."

"Thanks… I think." Greg murmured, opening the door further to allow him entrance.

Still garbed in his black CSI vest, Nick Stokes stepped into the apartment, removing his sunglasses in the process. Greg had known Nick for a long time and he considered him a good friend. There was something about him that he found comforting. He was easier to talk to than the other members of the team and as such Greg was at ease with him. He surmised it was possibly due to the fact Nick had such a large family and as such was used to dealing with people all the time. Either way Greg was grateful he was here. He missed human interaction.

"Did you sleep on the couch?" Nick asked glancing at the blanket draped on the arm.

"I fell asleep in front of the TV." Greg explained, not really wanting to go into details. "You just got off shift?"

"Yeah. Busy night. Three homicides but Griss has got one figured already and Sara and Warrick are working on the other leaving me and Catherine on the last. We've been slammed since you-"

He broke off frowning a little but Greg knew what he was going to say. Yet another thing to feel guilty about Greg sighed. His friends were being pushed to the limit because he wasn't there to take some of the slack.

"I didn't mean…" Nick trailed off again. "Sorry."

"Don't worry. Besides, maybe it will make you guys appreciate me a little more." Greg said feigning a smirk but Nick wasn't fooled by it. Greg could tell by the fact his brow remained tightly knitted. Dropping the act Greg exhaled deeply.

"You want a coffee?"

"Nah man. I gotta go home and sleep and the way you make coffee I'll be up for the rest of the week."

Greg did laugh at that. It was a short sharp bark but it successfully cleared the air and after a moment Nick joined him.

"I don't drink it that strong." Greg protested half-heartedly.

"Face it, Greg, you're a caffeine junkie."

"Maybe I should start a self-help group."

"I'll be your first member." Nick smiled.

"So how's the lab?"

"Same old. We got this new CSI level two on the night shift. She's a little peculiar."

"Peculiar? Like train-spotting peculiar or carves up animals and drinks their blood peculiar?"

"Neither. She's just… hormonal I guess. I dunno. I mean she has everything done on time but she is never happy about giving you your results. She throws more tantrums than a toddler."

Greg raised his brow. "Is she supposed to be running around, wind in her hair, the 'hills are alive with the sound of music' style when she's giving results?"

"No." Nick pulled a face. "I don't know. There's just… something. You'll see what I mean."

"What's her name?" he asked curiously.

"Adrienne West." Greg's pulled his brow into a tight frown.

"Do you know her?"

"What? No. Just thinking."

In truth he was wondering if she was better than him. Would they replace Greg? A million and one insecurities suddenly hit him. Was he being replaced? Maybe she _was_ his replacement. He felt his breath catch in his chest. Maybe Ecklie knew Greg was going down for Demetrius James. Maybe they thought he was a liability. He had been told to wait for backup and hadn't. Now someone was dead. But Grissom hadn't said anything to him. He had reassured him. Surely if he was being fired Grissom would have said something, wouldn't he? Greg knew deep down he would have but sat in his apartment listening to Nick he wondered if there was more to this than anyone was telling him. He rose from the sofa, running his hand through his hair.

"Are you ok, Greg?"

He stopped pacing and turned back to him, dropping his hands onto his hips. "Just tell me one thing, Nick."

"Sure." He said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Is she better than me?" Nick gave him a strange look before smirking.

"Not even close."

* * *

**A/N** I've never written a CSI story before but love the show. I've had this idea for a while but only really pulled it out of the vaults recently. I've really just put this out to see what kind of response it gets. I'm slightly nervous about it! Anywho, let me know what you think. The first chapter is pretty much just getting the events of what happened in Fannysmackin' out of the way. 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Anyone who has read my stuff knows that I'm pretty quick at writing these things. Once I get an idea in my head thats it, I just run with it until I either die of exhaustion (in which case I want Grissom to investigate my death!) or the story concludes. I apologise now to those people who dont check this daily and appear a week later to find seventeen chapters posted! I've got this one and another to post for tonight (I've been busy today huh) and the next installment will probably come midweek. I have too much uni work to do to write anything over the weekend :(

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* * *

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**Chapter two **

Nick stayed for about an hour and they played on Greg's play station for the majority of that time. After he left Greg felt his good mood slipping quickly. Alone in the apartment all he had were his thoughts and the only thoughts he had were of the attack. Briefly he dressed and decided to go out. He hadn't left the house for over a week now and cabin fever was really beginning to set in. it wasn't that he was afraid to go out, because he wasn't, it was just that he didn't want to face the outside world. It probably amounted to the same thing but Greg didn't see it that way. He just felt as if everyone knew what he had done. He couldn't stand the thought of being stared at. However his need to leave the apartment was greater than his fear of being watched. Grabbing his keys he left before he changed his mind.

The sun was warm and Greg's eyes burnt in the bright summer heat. He absently dragged his sunglasses out of his glove compartment before pulling out of the resident's car park. At first he simply drove around the strip for a while, watching the tourists moving back and forth but then after a bit he remembered he needed groceries and turned around heading for the store.

Pulling into the parking lot he turned the engine off and for a moment simply sat and stared at the automatic doors opening and closing to admit or release customers. He wanted to stop being weak and get out of the car but he found he couldn't. He even reached for the key to start the engine again but then paused. Greg had never been afraid of anything as ridiculous as grocery shopping in his life and yet, here he was, sat in the car park, watching everyone else getting on with their daily life, oblivious to the woes they had. Greg willed himself to be stronger.

A rapping on the window broke his thoughts and without meaning to the CSI jumped out of his skin before realising he wasn't being attacked. He studied the man stood at the side of his car momentarily before winding the window down, his heart pounding painfully beneath his ribs. He was garbed in a black long sleeved shirt and had a radio on his hip. Across the left breast of his shirt the word 'SECURITY' was embossed. On the other side he wore a badge that read 'Steve'. Greg presumed he was in his late thirties and his dark hair was neatly combed. The man did not look impressed.

"You ok Sir?"

"Uh… yeah." Greg replied, slightly baffled by this man's appearance.

"Do you need to shop?" when Greg gave him a confused look, the man, Steve, continued. "On our employers noticed you have been sat here for over half an hour. Is everything all right?"

Greg glanced at the clock on his dash board and with some surprised realised he had been sat there for closer to forty minutes. It seemed only a second ago since he pulled in. The security man was looking at him with suspicion. It was the same look Greg had often seen Brass give suspects. Steve evidently thought he was up to no good.

"Just, uh, taking a minute." Greg said but the security guard did not look convinced. Greg wondered if the man thought he was going to rob the place or something. Not that this wouldn't be the first store to be hit in Vegas. Wanting to convince him he wasn't a lunatic, Greg pulled an inhaler out of his glove compartment. He had been asthmatic since he was a child but he couldn't remember the last time he had had an attack, probably back in grade school. Force of habit made him keep a spare one in his car. The man studied it for a moment and then glanced back to Greg.

"Do you need medical assistance, sir?"

"No, I just… felt short of breath. I didn't want to continue driving in case I had an attack." Greg lied. "It's passing now."

The man nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response and moved back towards the store, informing Greg to come into the building if he needed further assistance. Let out a ragged breath Greg turned the engine on and pulled out of the car park, heading home. His courage had failed him now. All he wanted to do was get back into the safety of his own apartment.

When he arrived back he threw his door open, locking it behind him and sliding the security chain into place before sinking onto the couch. He felt exhausted. Why hadn't he been able to simply walk into that store and get on with his every day life? He felt like a freak. His attack had affected him badly and although he knew that was to be expected he didn't expect it to encroach on his menial events so much.

He rose from his seat and tried to find something to occupy himself with. Wandering over to the bookcase he picked a book on forensics and headed over to the breakfast bar, opening it at the chapter on field work. He wanted to catch back up on the things he had missed being in the hospital and then on leave. He felt as if he had already forgotten too much and wondered if he would find it difficult to get back into the swing of processing crime scenes. In the back of his mind he knew it wouldn't be an issue really. He had been working forensics for so many years now that he knew it like the back of his hand. The problem wasn't his ability to do it but the fact that he didn't have the confidence in his ability to do it. He scanned his eyes over the words, and had moved four pages forward before he realised he hadn't actually remembered a word he had read. Sighing he closed it and buried his head in his hands. He wished he could take back that night. Ok, not completely. He had saved a man's life, and he didn't regret that at all but he wished he could go back and handle Demetrius James differently. Maybe find a different way to stop him. A way that hadn't involved the boy dying.

Eventually hunger drove him to order food for delivery and it was just after seven when his meal arrived. Handing the young driver the money he shut the door, locking it behind him and took his food over to the table. The Chinese meal was fairly appetizing; chicken in sweet and sour sauce, but after a few mouthfuls Greg put his fork down and cleared it away. He wasn't nearly as hungry as he had first thought. Glancing up at the clock he decided to shower and then head into the lab. He needed to be around familiar faces and the lab felt safe to him.

Once he had parked in the staff lot he headed up to the main desk and flashed his ID at the receptionist who merely gave him a quizzical look but said nothing more. Greg almost hoped he could get to one of the labs without being seen by Catherine or Grissom, in fact Grissom wasn't due on for another couple of hours but no such luck. As he rounded the corner he came face to face with them both in deep conversation. They both glanced up at him before exchanging looks with one another.

"Hey Greg." Catherine said smiling. "Didn't expect to see you till next week."

"I figured you all might have been missing me." Greg replied, feeling somewhat chirpier for being here. It was almost like coming home in a way. he had lived and breathed the lab for so long. Probably too long some people would say.

"Missing you?" She glanced at Grissom, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Greg laughed. "Not even a little bit?"

"Well it's been quieter without you, but that's not necessarily a bad thing!"

Grissom who hadn't said anything yet spoke softly. "You're on leave till the end of next week."

"I know, but I'm going crazy sat at home."

"Greg…"

"Grissom, I'm fine. I'm almost fully healed and you guys are slammed. I can do something. Even if it's just processing evidence."

Grissom studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're sure you're up to it?"

"Positive. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think so."

"You know most people would be glad for a four week holiday." Catherine interjected.

"Could you take a four week holiday?" Greg asked her. She reluctantly shook her head.

"Point taken."

"Ok Greg, you can work. But only in the lab. No field work until the doctor clears you." Grissom said finally. "Head up and see if Mia or Hodges need a hand."

"Gotcha." Greg replied, turning to head up to the lab, his mood already lifting. It wasn't field work but it was still work. He felt useful again and for the first time in days he had a reason to smile.

"Greg." He turned back to Grissom who was now studying him intently.

"Yeah boss?"

"I would suggest changing your clothes."

Greg glanced down at what he was wearing with a frown. He was garbed in a pair of ripped jeans and a brightly coloured, almost gaudy patterned shirt. Grinning Greg laughed.

"Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three **

Greg pushed the door of the break room open and for a moment stared at his locker, a small smile creeping onto his face. It seemed like a whole other life time ago since he had been in the field. He missed it so much. It had taken him a lot of hard work to get out of the lab and he needed to be back out there, solving crimes. Even so it still felt good to be back even if it wasn't in his desired role.

He pulled his heavily patterned shirt off and leaning one arm against the metal he sagged onto his locker as he dragged out a pair of chocolate brown cords. Absently he dropped his jeans round his ankles and stepped out of them.

"Do you always take all your clothes off in the break room?"

Greg snapped his head up at the unfamiliar voice and in one confused motion tried to pull his clean pants on and grab his shirt. In reality all he achieved was to a lot of staggering around and he only managed to get them as far up as his knees with a distinctly red tinge to his cheeks. The woman didn't look phased; in fact she looked rather amused. Finally abandoning his shirt, he fixed his pants in place, trying to recover what was left of his dignity.

"Uh…" Was all he managed to mumble.

The voice belonged to a brunette, tall slim and pretty in a non-descript way. Greg, who, due to his hours, barely had any time to meet anyone outside of the lab, couldn't help but stammer a little at this new face. "I didn't think… well everyone is out in the field… I… uh… are you Adrienne West?" he said finally, his face burning. She folded her arms over her chest raising her brow.

"I see my fame proceeds me." She said softly wandering over to him and studying him. "Greg Sanders." She said finally noticing his ID badge hanging on his bare chest. "Your fame certainly proceeds you. You set a high standard in the lab."

Greg half smiled trying to find something to say… anything to say. The silence was getting longer. After a moment he spoke, stumbling over his words.

"You uh replaced me on the uh night shift."

She nodded. "Yeah, I owe Conrad a couple of favours so when he called I couldn't refuse."

It took Greg a moment to realise she was talking about Ecklie. He didn't think he had ever heard anyone use his first name.

"You a temp?" he asked, feeling more comfortable talking about work.

"I guess so."

"Where did you train?"

He had meant it as a conversational interest and nothing more but she seemed to take it personally. Scowling she dropped her hands on to her hips.

"I graduated at Harvard when I was twenty one with honors and a special commendation. I then spent a year working as a trainee under the NCPD crime lab. They employed me full time for a further year and a half before I moved to D.C to work with the F.B.I. I was there for another two years before I decided to move to Las Vegas. My grandmother lives here, she's ill. Cancer if you want to know. I have two sisters, both younger than me. My mother is called Susan, my father is Bob. I don't have any pets and my blood type is A positive, which you should know since your boss took a sample from me on my first day. I've never done drugs. I hardly drink and I have a birthmark on my left hip. Did I leave anything out?" She drawled. Greg shook his head mutely before she grabbed her jacket off the bench and storming out.

As soon as the door was closed Nick appeared from behind the lockers laughing uncontrollably. Greg glanced at him, perplexed.

"What the hell just happened?"

"You should have seen your face man. That was too funny!"

"Hmm." Greg responded. "She's uh a little intense."

"She's only been here three weeks but I already think she's cursing your name. Griss has had Mia and Hodges checking all of her work in the lab, Sara's tailing her in the field like a lost puppy and I think it's annoying her."

"I only asked her where she studied." Greg muttered, still baffled by the entire situation.

"Maybe she thought you were checking her credentials. After all since she's been here all she's heard about is you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Everyone new in the lab gets compared to you buddy. You're the best tech we've ever had." Nick clapped him on the back. "It doesn't sit well with the new guys."

Greg raised his brow, turning to look at the door which Adrienne had momentarily disappeared through.

"Maybe I'll stay out of her way for a while."

"It might be a good idea but I doubt you'll have a choice. If she stays on nights you're bound to run into her at some point."

"Not if I can help it." Greg muttered still watching the door. "What do you mean if she stays on nights?" Greg turned to face him.

"Well, Ecklie seems to like her and not just for her work." Nick said with a grunt.

"Do you think he'll give her my spot on nights?" Greg asked, his worst fears being confirmed.

"Nah. Grissom won't allow it. He's put too much time and effort into you to let Ecklie move you off the night team." Greg hoped he was right. Work was the only thing he had and he liked the team he was a part of. He didn't want that to be taken from him.

"So uh, what you doing here anyway? I thought you were off for another week or so."

"I got bored."

"By the end of this shift you're going to wish you were back at home."

Greg smiled not realising how true those words would prove to be.

* * *

Greg had spent an exhausting night in the lab, running trace and DNA samples from all three of the cases the CSIs had under way at the moment. He had successfully matched the hair found at the scene of Grissom's homicide to his suspect when Sara appeared in the door way of the lab.

"Hey stranger."

"Sara Sidle." Greg smiled fondly at her. As usual her dark hair framed her face softly but she tucked it incessantly behind her ears. Walking into the room she handed him a stack of envelopes.

"This from your crime scene?" Greg asked rummaging through the pile.

"Sure is."

Greg stopped coming to a package marked _finger_. He gave her a questioning look to which she merely shrugged.

"Is this one of those 'exactly what it says on the tin' scenarios?" Sara pulled a wry face.

"Why don't you open it and see?"

"I feel like a kid at Christmas." He muttered. "Except I wanted a chem set and when I opened it I found a sports jersey."

"You wanted a chem set as a kid?" Sara asked him.

"What can I say? I was a geek."

"No kidding." Her lip curled into a tight smile.

Greg shot her a reproachful glare as he pulled a fresh pair of gloves on and opened the envelope marked 'Finger'. Sure enough he pulled out a half severed digit. Half frowning he noticed it had been removed just above the knuckle and by the length he guess it was either the index or forefinger.

"Any idea who it belongs to?"

"Isn't that your job?" Sara smirked.

"Are you going to at least give me a clue here?"

"Ok." She relented. "Homicide on a twenty-eight year old man. COD hypovolaemic shock caused by multiple stab wounds to the upper body. He was found in a dumpster outside of the strip last night."

"Original." Greg murmured raising his brow. "So the finger is his?"

"Nope. All his fingers are exactly were they should be."

"The plot thickens." He said turning the finger over to study the finger print. "So another victim?"

"Not onsite, no. But that's not to say there wasn't one. Warrick found three different blood types on the vics clothes. One is his own, the other two unknown."

"It could be the suspects."

"That's what I'm hoping." She glanced at the finger, wrinkling her nose. "Let me know when you get a print."

"You could lend me a hand."

She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke as he suppressed a smirk. "Later, Greg."

"Lend a hand? Oh come on! That was good! Sara?" He watched her disappearing back leave the lab and laughed to himself. "Lend a hand…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Greg was taking a break. He hadn't realised how exhausting it would be to get back into the swing of night shifts. Resting his head on the table he closed his burning eyes, intending to rest them but that was all it had taken. He was asleep within seconds.

"Greg…" He felt someone shaking him and snapped his head up, his eyes fluttering open. "Hey, sleeping beauty."

Squinting a little, the young CSI studied Warrick for a moment. His expression was unreadable as he dropped his hands onto his hips. Greg dragged his fingers through his hair, trying to flatten it slightly.

"What time is it?"

"Just after five."

"You uh need something?" Greg asked stretching. He felt a little queasy after sleeping and wished he hadn't allowed himself to drift off. He rubbed his temple, feeling pressure building behind his eyes.

"Yeah. Did you run the DNA on my suicide case?"

"It doesn't match the victim. The reports in the out tray."

"No its not."

"Sure it is." Greg stifled a yawn. "I put it there right before I came on my break."

"Yeah? Well it isn't there now and I can't find the sample either."

Furrowing his brow Greg got to his feet. "Are you sure? I swear I put it there."

"I'm telling you, man. It's not there."

Greg felt his stomach go cold. He knew he had put the report in the tray and the sample back in the evidence cupboard, locking the door. As he hurried up the corridor, trailed by Warrick, he pulled the set of keys from around his neck. None of this made sense. He had done it. He remembered doing it. It was the same act he had done for the last seven years. Write the report, put it in the tray and then lock the evidence back up. He couldn't imagine he would screw up now.

Entering the lab he headed straight over to the desk and looked in the tray. Sure enough the report was gone. Confused, Greg headed into the adjacent room. Making his way over to the cupboard he quickly unlocked it, pulling the desired evidence box out. Rooting through the contents he couldn't find the sample either. Greg stared into the box for a couple of seconds, willing it to appear.

"I put it in the box and I locked the cupboard." He muttered.

"It's not their now." Warrick said. "Greg, just find it and let me know when you've got it." He said irritably, walking away.

Greg glanced around the bottom of the box. It definitely wasn't there. Where the hell could it have gone? Desperately he emptied the cupboard completely, hoping it had perhaps fallen out when he had put it in. No such luck.

"Having a clean out?"

Greg didn't bother to turn around at the sound of Nick's voice. He was too preoccupied with trying to find the evidence he had somehow lost. He knew it must have looked bizarre seeing him surrounded by a multitude of boxes, his head stuck in the cupboard but he couldn't see the humour in the situation. This was far too serious. He could be sacked for losing evidence.

"Greg?" Nick tried again. "You ok buddy?"

"Not really." Greg murmured, sinking back on his heels. Defeated, he knew he would have to tell Grissom. It was not a conversation he relished. Grissom was going to kill him.

"What's up?"

He turned to him for the first time.

"I think I've lost evidence." Greg admitted, trying to keep his emotions under control. Nick, who had been previously been leaning against the door frame, stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How?" Greg brushed his hair back, panic settling over him. He felt sick.

"I did the report. I put it in the out tray and then I swear I came in here, returned the evidence before going on a break."

"And now it's gone?" Greg nodded. Nick glanced down at the box. "What was your evidence?"

"Hair strand."

"Nothing big then." Nick muttered. "Talk about needle in a haystack."

"I have to tell Grissom."

Nick shook his head. "Greg, I've known you for a long time and I have never known you lose anything. Are you sure someone didn't take it out?"

"It's Warrick's case. He was the one who told me it was missing."

" Warrick's working with Adrienne. Has she taken it?"

"Uh…" Greg racked his brain. "The board said she was back out at the scene."

"Ok. Did you sign to say you had put it back?"

Greg got to his feet and grabbed the sign sheet. He flicked through to the most recent one.

"There." Greg pointed to his messy signature scrawled on the bottom of the paper.

"You did definitely bring the evidence back, didn't you?"

Giving him a level stare, Greg wondered what he was implying. "Yes. Why would I sign and not put it back?"

Nick frowned. "I wasn't accusing you, Greg." Sighing he shrugged. "You're going to have to tell Griss though."

"I'll check the lab again first. If it's not there then I'll tell Grissom."

Heading back into the DNA lab Greg looked everywhere but still couldn't find the sample. After a good thirty minutes of searching he finally gave up. He had no idea where it had gone but he was so certain he had boxed it up. He wondered if his exhaustion was catching up with him and doubts began to creep into his mind. Greg had always been so sure of his abilities in the lab. He was nothing if not meticulous. He had a set routine whenever he was in that environment. One he had done for such a long time that it was almost second nature to him. It seemed beyond strange that he should mess it up tonight.

"Hey Sanders."

He glanced up from the drawer he had just been rooting through as Adrienne West hovered in the doorway. Rising slowly to his feet he tried to act as natural as he could despite the fact his stomach was turning inside out.

"Did you take any of the evidence out for the Hollenbeck case and forget to sign for it?"

She shook her head. "No. I've only just go back myself. Problems?"

"Uh, no." she was the last person he wanted to confide in. "What can I do for you?"

"I got a trace of something weird on the knife used by the suicide vic. Do you think you can test it? See what it is?"

"Uh do you think you can ask Hodges? I'm really tied up here." Greg muttered, turning his attention back to the drawer.

"Sure." Her tone was a little confused. After a moment she spoke again. "Is this about earlier?"

Greg ripped his eyes from his search and gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

"Well I did kind of go off at you. I fear we might have got off on the wrong foot."

"It's got nothing to do with earlier. I'm just backed up."

"I know I got a little defensive." She winced slightly, her expression conveying that she obviously realised she got more than a little. "It's just…" Sighing she moved into the room. "I'm nearly twenty-six, and I've worked with some of the best criminologists and forensics in the country and yet here I'm treated like a kid, fresh out of college. It's frustrating."

Greg could sympathise with that. When he had first started in the lab, as the youngest member of the team, as well as the newest, he was often babied by the others. Ok, so sometimes that did have its perks but more often than not it had driven him crazy. He had needed the team to believe in him but he also realised that trust came with time. Adrienne couldn't expect to simply walk in here and be instantly trusted. Out on a crime scene you had to know your partner would have your back. You had to be able to trust each other with your life. Until that trust was established it was obvious that the rest of the team would keep a close eye.

"Yeah. No worries." He said distractedly.

"I'll ask Hodges to process this then." She half smiled as she left.

Greg watched her go momentarily. Nick had been right about her. She was up and down like a yo-yo. First she had shouted at him and now she was apologising. She was going to be a delight to work with he could tell. Shutting the drawer he rose and took a deep breath. The evidence was definitely not in the lab. There was only one thing left to do. Tell Grissom.

Plucking up the courage, Greg trudged up to his office and rapped on the door. Hearing a response to enter, he pushed the door open and stepped into Grissom's office. He glanced up from the papers he was looking over momentarily before lowering his eyes again.

"Greg." Grissom said. "Everything all right?"

Wincing Greg shook his head. "I've got a problem." Pulling his glasses off, Grissom gave him his full attention.

"What kind of problem?"

"I… uh… kinda misplaced some evidence." He blushed under his bosses gaze, casting his eyes down, unable to bear that look of disappointment.

"Misplaced it how?"

"I thought I had put it in the evidence lock up. I even signed to say I had but Warrick couldn't find it and when I checked I couldn't find it in there either."

"Did you leave it in the lab?" Grissom's tone didn't give anything away and Greg risked raising his eyes. His expression was as impassive as his voice.

"I've searched for it but its like it just… vanished into thin air along with the report I wrote on it."

Grissom leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together, his face pensive. It was an expression Greg knew well. It was the look of a man looking to unravel a mystery.

"From which case?"

"The Hollenbeck suicide."

"Is it possible you simply signed and forgot to put it back?"

"No. I do everything in an order so that I never miss anything out." Greg said, shaking his head. "I'm positive I put it back and I know I put the report in the tray."

"When was the last time you slept, Greg?"

The question took him by surprise and for a moment Greg couldn't find any words. "Last night."

"Properly slept I mean."

Greg hesitated, on the verge of lying but he knew there was no point. Grissom was built to root out liars. He would see right through anything Greg said. "I don't know. A couple of days ago. What's this got to do with anything?"

He pulled his desk drawer open and pulled out a small brown envelope and a sheet of printed paper. Greg moved his gaze to it and noticed his handwriting. It was the report and the evidence.

"Where did you find it?"

"Adrienne found it in the conference room."

Greg glanced at the missing sample and then at Grissom. How was that even possible? How had it gone from a locked cupboard to the conference room?

"I haven't even been in the conference room today." Grissom gave him a slightly concerned look.

"Why don't you head home, Greg." It was not a suggestion.

Greg frowned. "Grissom, I swear I put it in the evidence cupboard."

"You're under a lot of pressure at the moment. You experienced a horrific attack and then with your civil suit coming up… it's understandable that you feel out of sorts."

"I'm fine." Greg pressed. "Someone must have moved the evidence is all. Maybe Adrienne forgot to sign it out." Grissom raised his brow.

"Adrienne removed the evidence, planted it in the conference room and then brought it to me." He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion as his lips twitched, a question poised. Greg knew what it would be before he even said it. "Why?" Grissom asked finally.

"I don't know. She doesn't exactly like me much." He grunted.

"Greg you only met her six hours ago."

"Yeah and the first thing she did was go off at me."

"So she stole the evidence, planted it in the conference room, and then brought it to me because of some tiff you had this evening?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Greg concluded lamely, realising how all this probably sounded. "I put that evidence in the cupboard, signed to say I had done so and then went on my break. When I got back it was gone."

"You still have a week off." Grissom spoke as if Greg had not. "Take the opportunity to relax a little. Maybe go home and see your parents." He suggested.

Greg half debated arguing with him but decided against it. Grissom would always win in the end.

"Fine." He said trying to keep his voice level but he knew it cracked with irritation. "I'll see you in a week."

Trying to leave the office as calmly as possible it wasn't until he reached the break room that he lost his temper. Dragging his locker open he pulled his rucksack out, and slammed the door shut so hard that the sound of metal clashing reverberated sharply around the room. He knew it was a foolish act, born of frustration but even so he did feel somewhat better for doing it. It wasn't that he had been ordered home that annoyed him so much but the injustice of the whole situation. He knew he had stored that evidence correctly and the only explanation for it ending up in the conference room was that someone had removed it. It had to be that way. Adrienne had been the one who had found it but what did she have to gain from such a stupid act? Greg wondered if he seriously thought she had stolen the evidence or whether he just wanted someone to blame. He decided on the latter. He was too proud to accept that he had messed up but he must have done. He doubted anyone in the lab would purposely try to get him into trouble. Grissom clearly thought the same. He had looked at him like he was insane when he suggest Adrienne was behind it. As Greg sank onto the wooden benches that lined the length of the room he wondered if perhaps he was. Truthfully he had no recollection at all of being in the conference room but then again it had been the same in the car park of the store. Forty minutes had elapsed and he hadn't even noticed. Maybe something similar had happened here. Lack of sleep must be taking its toll, he thought absently.

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

Greg glanced up as Sara entered. She looked tired and somewhat irritated. "Have you matched the finger yet?"

"No." He muttered. "Ask Mia to do it."

"Greg, I gave you that evidence over two hours ago."

"I've been busy." He swung his rucksack onto his back.

"Are you going home?" Sara's tone changed suddenly. "What's wrong?" she asked softly catching his arm.

"Grissom's orders." He replied with a forced smile and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Greg-"

"I'll see you in a week Sara." He interrupted, walking passed her and out of the break room. He knew he was being rude but he didn't care. In that moment all he wanted to do was get as far away from the lab and Adrienne West as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** Thanks to ericloca, Kokomocalifornia, and sUnKiSsT for your reviews. It helps to motivate when you receive feedback. Special thanks to Greg Sanders for not only reviewing but also sticking me on your C2. This chapter would have been up sooner but I have flu or something equally rank and spent all day in bed yesterday. I still feel like crap but wrote this hopped up on lemsips! which basically is paracetamol in flavoured water. The bits in italics are phone conversations although I think you're all smart enough to know that. If you didnt just do what I do in these situations and nod and agree!

And why dont you guys like Adrienne West?! She sooooooooo nice :P

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* * *

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**Chapter Five **

It was just after half past six in the morning when Greg put his key into the lock and stepped into the dark apartment. He had been angry when he left the lab but now that he was home he felt more exhausted than anything. He felt as if Grissom was punishing him for something that was not his fault. He knew he had locked that evidence up. He knew it. And what was worse was that Grissom didn't believe him. He had worked with Greg for so many years. He knew Greg and yet he had thought him capable of misplacing evidence. Greg had always been meticulous and attentive in his work and so it hurt knowing that Grissom could think that of him.

Greg also wondered if Adrienne had actually removed the evidence and planted it in the conference room but the logical part of his mind told him she had nothing to gain from such an act. Ok so she would make him look mildly incompetent for a while but in truth why would she want to do that to someone she had only just met? Greg scowled, wondering what was wrong with him. He had never been so paranoid before. He was beginning to worry about himself.

His thoughts were broken by his cell ringing. Closing the door behind him he flicked the light switch on but nothing happened. Scowling, he pulled his phone out and read the name flashing on the screen, NICK. He thought about not answering but then decided he should. Nick would only turn up on the door step if he didn't.

"Sanders."

_"Hey, where did you go in such a hurry?"_ Nick asked but his anxious tone indicated that he had already spoken to either Sara or Grissom; probably both.

"Home. I was removed." Greg tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

_"Because of the evidence?" _

Greg sighed. "Yeah, would you believe that? Could you hang on a second?"

Still stood in pitch black he tried the light switch a few more times before he stumbled across the room to find the small end table, hoping it was just the bulb that had gone and not all the circuits. Tripping over something he cursed loudly and vaguely heard Nick's voice from the cell. Finally locating the lamp, he tried to switch it on but nothing happened.

"Great." He muttered.

_"Greg? Greg!" _Nick sang out. "_You there?"_

Pulling his cell back to his ear he felt his way into the kitchen, trying to remember what he had done with the torch he had bought for situations like this one.

"Yeah I'm still here."

_"What did you do?"_

"The lights have fused or something. I tripped over."

Nick laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh at my pain Nick."

Nick apologised but was still giggling.

Feeling blindly in the cupboard under the sink he was unable to locate it and loosing patience he half debated simply leaving the electricity off till the morning light. However he knew he wouldn't sleep for a while yet and the thought of sitting in the dark twiddling his thumbs didn't overwhelm him. Knowing there was a torch amongst his kit he grabbed his keys off the side and headed back out to his car. This was just the icing on the cake of his crap day, he thought irritably. Wondering if anything else could possibly go wrong, he dragged the trunk open and rummaged around until he had located the flashlight before heading back inside.

The fuse box was in the hallway that ran down the middle of the apartment, separating the living spaces from the bedrooms and bathroom. Shining the torch onto the box he saw that the switches had simply tripped for the sockets and lights. He flicked them back on before resetting the main switch, expecting the lights to come back on but they didn't. Irritated, he studied the switches again wondering if he had done something wrong but couldn't see anything.

"Do you know anything about fuses?" Greg asked Nick.

_"Uh… are you on a trip circuit?"_

"I think so."

_"Just flick them all up and then make sure the main switch is set on."_

All of them were set in the on position so the lights should have come back on and yet he was still engulfed in darkness.

"I tried that." He grumbled. Nick went silent for a moment and then replied.

_"Make sure the main switch is set to off when you're doing it."_

Greg did as he was told. He reset them all to off and then flicked them on again but this time the lights came on with a dull whirl. Greg squinted at the brightness momentarily before shutting the fuse box and switching his flashlight off.

Suddenly from the other room his stereo started blasting music out. Greg almost shot into the next room, he jumped so much. As it was he dropped his phone but quickly recovered it. His initial thought was maybe he had left the stereo on and the power going off had shut it down. He didn't remember switching it on last night before work and if he had why would he have left it on? He didn't want to piss the neighbours off unnecessarily. Hurrying into the room, he quickly hit the stop button and ejected the CD. It was not one of his which was even more perplexing and it had no label on the front. Greg labelled everything. Even things that didn't _NEED_ labels were labelled in Greg's house.

_"Greg?"_

He almost dropped the phone having forgotten about Nick and quickly pulled it up to his ear.

"Sorry."

_"What was that? Are you having a party?"_

"I don't know. It just came on." Greg muttered distractedly as he glanced around the room but everything else seemed to be in place. Everything but this CD. "I think someone has been in my apartment."

_"Signs of force entry?"_ Nick asked, his tone worried.

"No. But that CD is definitely not mine and I definitely did not leave it blurring and go to work."

_"Do you want me to send a dispatch over?"_

Greg hesitated. "Uh, no, no. Whoever it was has long gone."

He heard his answer machine bleep twice to say it had power now and idly wandered into the adjacent room to check his messages. Sure enough the red LED was blinking intermittently and the dial showed three messages.

"Give me a second Nick."

_"You keep putting me on hold like this, I'm going to start thinking you don't like me_."

Greg laughed a littleas he pushed the play button, and headed over to the fridge. His cell tucked under his ear he pulled out a cartoon of juice.

"If I didn't like you, man, I would have just hung up by now."

_"So you used me to get your electricity back on."_ Nick laughed.

"Pretty much."

The machine beeped.

_Hey Greg, its mom. Just checking to see how you're doing. Are you keeping up with your doctors appointments? I know you hate medics but make sure you go; you can't overlook your health. Anyway I know you told us not to worry or come and visit but your father and I have both got some free time off next week so we though we'd come up at see you. Anyway, make sure you're getting plenty of rest and don't work too hard sweetie. You need to give yourself a chance to heal and I know what you're like with work. Love you Greggy and I'll talk to you later. Bye-se-bye_

_BEEP. _

Greg resisted rolling his eyes. In the back of his mind he wondered if his mother would ever let him grow up and lead his own life. Sometimes he felt like such a momma's boy. His moving to Vegas had been the hardest thing he had ever done but it had been nothing more than a desperate grasp at freedom. His mom had argued with him, and even guilt tripped him not to go but Greg had put his foot down, took the plunge, and moved miles from everything he had ever known or cared about. It had been the only time in his life that he had ever stood up to her and it felt wonderful knowing he was free of her. That wasn't to say that he didn't love his mother, because he did, he just wanted to stand on his own two feet, something she was reluctant to allow him to do. Ever since he was born Greg's mother had wrapped him in cotton wool. He had longed for his independence and Vegas had been his way of doing that.

"What do you think of Adrienne?" Greg asked over the second message. It was about picking up his pain medication from the doctors. Greg listened absently, mentally noting that he had to get them before twelve noon because the pharmacy shut half days on Friday and was closed till Monday.

_"She's a little angry and more than a little brash but I don't know. I can't fault her work. She's methodical and she does get results."_

Greg scowled but said nothing more. He didn't want to push the issue. Grissom already thought he was certifiable, he didnt want Nick thinking the same thing. He tipped his head back, drained another mouthful of juice before putting it back and closing the fridge door just as the third message began.

_BEEP. _

_Hello Mr Sanders. You don't know me, but I know you, very, very well. I've been watching you. Watching you get up, go to work, eat at the diner with your colleagues. Your boring monotonous existence has caught my eye. I hope you realise how special that makes you. I'm sorry that this is all rather short and formal. The next time will be longer, I promise. Oh and I've left a little present for you in your bedroom. Love you Greggy. Bye-se-bye_

_BEEP_.

Greg snapped his head up at the unfamiliar voice and stared at the machine which had now gone silent. For a moment he didn't register what had been said and wondered if he had imagined it. Hesitantly he wandered over and pushed the rewind button followed by play.

_BEEP. _

_Hello Mr Sanders. You don't know me, but I know you, very, very well. I've been watching you. Watching you get up, go to work, eat at the diner with your colleagues. Your boring monotonous existence has caught my eye. I hope you realise how special that makes you I'm sorry that this is all rather short and formal. The next time will be longer, I promise. Oh and I've left a little present for you in your bedroom. Love you Greggy. Bye-se-bye_

_BEEP. _

Clear as day the same voice spoke the words again. Rewinding it he replayed the message again. He did this a further three times, somewhat confused about the message. He had not recognized the voice but the male sounding tone had used the same good bye that his mother had used since he was a child. That freaked him out more than he would ever admit. And what present in the bedroom? The message made no sense.

_"Greg?"_ Nick's voice sounded on the cell again.

"Hold on." Greg muttered.

He seriously debated getting out of the apartment and just calling a dispatch in but he didn't want Nick to know he was scared. He still half believed it was kids messing about and so he took the stupidest decision of his entire life and went into the bedroom, feeling for the light switch.

"You know its probably just some punk kids, screwing about. My laptop's still here anyway." He said, seeing it closed on the sideboard. "If it was a burglary they sucked." Greg muttered to Nick, trying to sound reassuring.

_"Ok, if you need anything let me know." _Nick said.

Greg made to respond but as he did something caught his eye. Turning fully into the room he couldn't help but let a gasp out, and staggering back he fell against the wall, sliding down it onto the floor.

"Shit…" Was all he muttered in between laboured breaths. It was all he could manage to mutter.

_"Greg? Greg? Greg are you there?" _

Greg wanted to move his hand to tell Nick he was fine but he seemed to be rooted to the spot. Paralysed. He finally forced himself to look up at the walls of his bedroom but closed them after a moment. It was too much to see.

_"Greg? Jesus Greg talk to me?! What's happened? Are you hurt? GREG!" _

Nick's frantic voice broke him out of it and he leaned over and grabbed the cell that had slid away from him, his hands shaking.

"You better get the team down here." Greg muttered, still shocked. "There's a dead body in my bedroom."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six **

Greg had seen the body and ran. Staggering out of his bedroom he had not looked back until he was free of the apartment. He was used to seeing bodies. Christ, he spent a fifth of his time in the morgue poking about with dead bodies and the rest of his time on scene figuring out what happened to them. However, finding one in your bedroom was a slightly different ball game, especially when you had no idea how it got there. Sinking onto the curb outside his apartment he hugged his knees, wanting the police to arrive quickly.

It seemed like an eternity before the police sirens whirred in the distance and eventually Greg could see the flashing lights getting closer. He watched with a strange detachment as half the cops he had worked with over the years pulled up on his driveway and pulled their guns on him. More than a little taken aback, Greg automatically raised his hands in the air, getting slowly to his feet. He had not really given much thought to the implications of this scenario but he supposed he should have realised he was a murder suspect and as such would be treated as dangerous. Had the situation not been so serious he would have laughed. He carefully glanced at the several guns pointed at him, his heart pounding. Jim Brass jumped out of the last car to arrive and screamed at them to lower their weapons.

"Sanders?" He spoke softly, approaching him but still keeping his distance. "How do you want to do this?"

Greg squinted at him, the brightness of the headlamps blinding him. Brass was asking if he would come quietly. Greg hadn't done anything wrong and so he shrugged slightly, afraid to make any sudden movements incase the officers decided it was hostile. He didn't want to get shot.

"I'm not going to fight." Greg said quietly.

Brass nodded and slowly walked over to him, wincing a little. "I'm sorry to do this but… you say you've got a db in your house… I've got to arrest you."

Greg nodded. He understood. He wondered absently why he was being so calm. He didn't feel calm inside. He was terrified. There was a dead body in his bedroom and he was fairly certain he hadn't put it there. The question was, where had it come from? He didn't have chance to ponder over it is Brass ordered him to turn around and place his hands behind his back. He complied fully and felt the cold touch of handcuffs as they were snapped into place. He hardly remembered the walk to the patrol car but next thing he knew he was sat in the back of it, waiting as the scene was swarming with cops.

He barely even registered the arrival of his CSI colleagues. Sara. Griss. Nick. He wondered why those three had come as he glanced down. Griss, his boss, Nick, his best friend and Sara... He shook his head, he couldn't think about any of that now. Lowering his eyes, he tried to ignore what was going on around him. He didn't want to look at them. He couldn't bring himself to look at them. What if they thought he had murdered her? It didn't bear thinking about. He lowered his head onto his chest and closed his eyes. He couldn't get his mind around any of this. He knew they wouldn't believe him. _He wouldn't believe him_. They were trained to find murderers and root out liars using the evidence. What more evidence did they need than a dead body in his bedroom?

In the back of his mind he began to wonder if he had killed her. He hadn't been himself lately. There were blank spots in his days, blank spots that seemed to be getting worse. He had lost forty minutes in the store lot the other day. he hadn't remembered being in the conference room at the lab and losing the evidence. Now he had returned home to find a dead body in his bedroom. He had no recollection of how it got there. What if he had had a blank spot again? It didn't bear thinking about.

* * *

As soon as Greg had said there was a dead body in his house Nick had raised the alarm. Within ten minutes him, Grissom, and Sara were ready to roll. Nick had wanted to keep the phone line open but Greg had muttered something about getting out of the apartment and hung up, leaving him more than worried. The entire drive over had been done in silence. No one wanted to talk. No one knew what to say. Even so Nick knew what both Griss and Sara were thinking. They didn't want to believe it but what option did they have? There was a db in Greg's apartment. He was always going to be the first suspect. Nick hoped they could rule him out quickly. 

When they arrived at the scene they were greeted by the red and blue flashing of lights. There were three patrol cars in total and yellow police tape cordoned off the area immediately surrounding Greg's apartment. It was almost a surreal picture. Nick quickly got out of the car and headed over to Brass. Greg was sat in the back of the patrol car adjacent to him, his expression one of confused hopelessness.

"Is he ok?" Nick asked, not taking his eyes off his friend.

"He's a little shook up, understandably. He hasn't said much."

"Is he a suspect in this?" Nick asked.

Brass pulled a face but didn't respond, his attention diverted as a second SUV pulled up. Nick recognized it as one of the lab's Denali and was a little shocked to see Adrienne West getting out of the car. Grissom turned to her, his face unreadable.

"I thought you were working that double homicide with Warwick and Catherine." His tone was soft but the words bit underneath. Grissom had been disobeyed and he didn't like it.

"Conrad asked me to come down on this one."

"Well, thanks but its completely unnecessary." Grissom said. "There are enough of us here."

"Nevertheless, its Conrad's orders. He seems to think that you three are too close to this one. He wanted someone impartial involved. Just to oversee things."

Nick knitted his brow at her. Was she suggesting that they would tamper with evidence? Grissom looked equally irritated.

"Who is the victim?" Grissom asked turning his attention to Brass, ignoring West as much as he could.

There was a strained tension in his voice as he spoke. Nick knew him well enough to realise he was trying to stop his personal feelings for Greg from getting in the way of this investigation. Nick wasn't really sure any of them should be investigating this at all. They were all too close. The detective glanced over his shoulder at the younger CSI and sighed.

"Maybe you should look at this for yourselves."

The three of them exchanged glances before following Brass into the apartment, trailed by Adrienne. Nick scanned his eyes around the familiar setting looking for anything out of place. It looked the same as it always did. He wondered if he had expected it to look different and realised that he actually had. He didn't think Greg had murdered anyone, of course not, but he was looking at his apartment as a crime scene and not the place were he came to play video games and drink beer. They were just about to enter the hallway when David Phillips, assistant coroner, exited from the bedroom. He looked perplexed. It was the same expression everyone was wearing. Something really did not feel right about this entire situation but Nick surmised it probably due to the fact they were dealing with a murder at Greg's apartment. He was, after all, one of their own.

"David. You pronounced the victim?" Grissom asked, an edge of tension in his voice. No one wanted to think about the consequences of this case but Nick could see the question poised on Sara and Grissom's lips: Had Greg murdered someone? David looked baffled.

"Pronounced it? How can I pronounce it? Seriously if this is some kind of late hazing ceremony it's really not funny. Now if you guys don't mind I have actual work to do."

David walked off, clearly irritated. Nick glanced at Sara, just as confused by this behaviour before the three of them entered the bedroom. It was a blood bath. Nick whistled under his breath as he placed his case on the carpet and let his eyes rove around the scene.

Written on the wall in blood was the word MURDERER. Underneath the text was the body. It looked to be a female, blond hair fanned out behind her, matted thickly with blood. The carpet was saturated red also. Nick turned his back on it and began studying the side board. He couldn't look at that yet.

Grissom, however, had already dragged a pair of gloves on and moved towards the victim. Kneeling before her he studied her for a couple of moments before grunting something that almost could have passed for a laugh.

"What is it?" Adrienne demanded.

Grissom turned a little, glancing over his shoulder. "This body…" he said softly. "Is not a body."

"What?" Nick demanded, unable to believe what Grissom was saying.

"It's not a body." Grissom repeated.

"It sure as hell looks like a body." Nick said, moving over to join him.

As he got closer however it was obvious to see it wasn't in fact a body. It looked real enough but it was actually fake. The skin tones were perfect, there were no seams in the flesh like material, the eyes even had real lashes on the lids but there was no mistaking it wasn't a human.

"Its…"

"A doll." Grissom finished.

"What the…" Sara's tone was more than confused.

"That was my exact thought." Brass muttered. "This is the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever seen."

Nick was baffled. "I don't understand. The body isn't a body, it's a doll? Why plant it in Greg's apartment? Why the elaborate set up?"

"To get his attention." Grissom answered as he swabbed the blood. Nick watched as he dripped the solution onto the end but it didn't change colour. It wasn't blood. "The body isn't the only thing that's not real."

"So this whole thing is staged?" Adrienne demanded, her tone incredulous.

"It would appear so." Grissom said his eyes still on the doll. Shaking his head, Nick dropped his hands onto his hips.

"I was talking to Greg when he found this thing. He was so sure it was a real body. He's seen enough to tell the difference. He was scared, Griss."

"No one is accusing Greg of staging this Nick." Grissom replied. _Everyone apart from Adrienne,_ Nick thought, catching her expression. Nick wasn't even sure that was what he had been suggesting they were doing anyway. He hated how Grissom saw beyond every situation. It was like he knew the questions you would ask in the future. It was annoying.

Sara leaned over the doll, her eyes flickering over it. "It's impossible to tell its fake until you're nearly on top of it. Hell, even I thought it was real."

"I thought it was real enough to call David in." Brass said.

"Mmhm." Grissom murmured his eyes bright. "It is extremely high quality."

"Griss, what the hell are we looking at here?" Nick couldn't stand this any longer. He had heard the fear in Greg's voice. He had thought it was a body. Now confronted with it they were being told it was a doll. The whole situation reeked wrong.

"I'm not entirely sure. What did Greg say to you when you spoke to him?"

"He said his lights had fused. I walked him through how to switch them on. When the electricity came back on a CD was playing. A CD that he didn't own. He thought someone had been in his apartment but he said nothing was out of place."

"At least until he reached the bedroom." Sara added, raising her brow. "So the body's fake, the bloods fake. All we need to figure out now is why this was done."

"Are there any prints?" Adrienne asked her tone subdued. Nick wondered if she was almost upset that Greg hadn't murdered someone.

Grissom sighed. "It doesn't appear so."

"Well that's strange in itself." Sara mused, moving over to the other side of the bedroom and running her torchlight across the window ledge. "No sign of entry through the window."

"He uh was convinced someone had been in his apartment." Nick muttered. "And then…" He broke off trying to remember what had been said on the phone between them. It came to him after a moment. "He checked his machine whilst he was talking to me."

Nick turned on his heel and headed into the living area. Locating the answer machine, he was grateful to see that Greg hadn't yet erased his messages. Rewinding them, he pressed play and listened to the first one. It was a message from his mom. Nick almost laughed out loud. His mother always said the same sort of things to him. It was like mothers everywhere had a handbook and just read from it. The second message was from his doctor.

As Grissom emerged from the bedroom with Sara and Adrienne, Nick wondered if he had got excited about nothing. These just sounded like every day messages. He almost reluctantly pressed play for the last message.

_Hello Mr Sanders. You don't know me, but I know you, very, very well. I've been watching you. Watching you get up, go to work, eat at the diner with your colleagues. Your boring monotonous existence has caught my eye. I hope you realise how special that makes you. I'm sorry that this is all rather short and formal. The next time will be longer, I promise. Oh and I've left a little present for you in your bedroom. Love you Greggy. Bye-se-bye_

Nick stared at the machine, his brow furrowing, his stomach going cold. What did that all mean? For a moment he remembered a time when he had been stalked by the cable guy, Nigel. A thousand memories of being watched and then having a gun stuck in his face hit him at once. His mind then jumped back to when he had been abducted and buried alive. He felt his breath catching in his chest. He was underground, suffocating, in that coffin. Waiting to die. Waiting for his oxygen to run out. His head swam and vaguely he felt a hand grabbing his arm, muffled voices speaking to him. He hoped this wouldn't be the same for Greg. He didn't want to go through this all again.

"Nick…" The voice sounded far away but got closer and closer until the world stopped spinning and he came face to face with a pale Grissom. "Nick?"

"Yeah." Nick managed to mutter thickly cradling his head in his hands, willing the world to stand still. His heart was racing.

"Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Nick did as he was instructed and after a moment he felt his chest easing. Risking a glanced at his work colleagues he felt more than a little foolish and tried to give them a lopsided grin.

"I'm ok."

Grissom raised a brow at him. "I'd still like to have you checked out in the hospital."

"Really, I'm fine Griss." Nick replied truthfully. He was beginning to feel better now. He was a little worried by the fact he had experienced a panic attack over his abduction. That was the first one he had had in two years.

"What happened?" Sara asked, crouching besides him. Nick realised he had at some point been helped onto the sofa but he didn't know when or by whom. He glanced at Grissom who gave him a knowing look but said nothing. Adrienne was looking at him with distain. She clearly thought he was unprofessional.

"Its nothing Sara, I'm fine."

Grissom got to his feet, satisfied Nick was all right and rewound the tape and played it again, but Sara gave him a long, level stare for a moment before turning her attention back to the machine. Having listened to it once more, Grissom turned back to the team.

"The doll, the message, and the music… what does this all suggest to you?"

"Someone is playing with Greg. Messing with his mind." Sara responded. "The fact that they've been in his apartment and his bedroom suggests a personal link."

"Stalker?" Adrienne asked.

"Maybe not. Most stalkers don't personally know their victims, they just think they do. They build a fake life with the 'stalkee' and live it out."

"Stalkers usually want to become the victim. To have their life, their friends, their job." Nick began, his voice dropping low. He was talking from personal experience now. "In a weird kind of way they believe they have a special relationship with the person they're following."

"This seems a little more hateful than that though." Sara replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stalkers have been known to kill their victims, Sara." Nick muttered. "Nigel stuck a gun in my face intending to kill me."

"This isn't Nigel, Nick." Grissom said softly. For a moment none of them spoke until Sara shook her head.

"Yeah but murder only usually occurs in stalker cases because the victim freaks out and rejects the stalker or because the stalker realises he cant become the person they're following until they are dead. This…. This is something more than that. That doll was supposed to make Greg freak out and call us. If the suspect had just wanted Greg's attention he could have used one of those crappy blow up things. That thing's expensive. He wanted it to look real, to be believable. And it worked. It fooled all of us. Until you actually get up close and personal with the doll it's impossible to tell it's fake. The question is why did he want it to look so real. What was the suspect trying to achieve with that?"

"Fear maybe?" Adrienne interjected. "Revenge?"

"It's definitely a strange way to get revenge. If that was his aim he would have been better taking Greg on himself."

"It depends upon his reasoning." Grissom began. "Greg comes home, finds a body in his house, and freaks out. The suspect wonders if he will call us or do nothing, hide the evidence. Greg does call us and now LVPD are down here running around a crime scene that doesn't exist. It's a game to him. He's pushing Greg's buttons and seeing which way he will jump." Grissom said. "Its actually quite clever."

"What I don't understand is why Greg?" Sara concluded.

"Why not?" Adrienne spoke. "If it's an attack on the lab itself Greg is the perfect candidate. He hasn't been out in the field long. He's still new. He's young. Slightly naive. Not to mention already facing a civil law suit."

"I don't think this is aimed at the lab. If it was then why would the first act be in Greg's apartment?" Nick objected. "Why not just hit the lab straight away?"

"We have a bigger problem than that." Grissom glanced up from the machine. "How did this person get hold of his address, his landline number and how did he get into the apartment? This all suggests it is someone Greg knows. Possibly someone with access to his keys."

"You checked the roof space yet?" Nick asked wryly. "He did just get cable."

Grissom gave him a brief smile. "I'm not sure this is the same thing Nick."

"What about this music that was playing?" Brass asked.

"Probably just to bring his attention into this room so that he would listen to the message."

Brass nodded. "I'm going to go uncuff Sanders, Gil, and then head off. I'll leave you a patrol just in case that nut job is in the roof."

"Thank you Jim."

Nick sighed. "I'm going to talk to Greg. Let me know if you find anything here."

Wandering out of the apartment, Nick headed over to the patrol car with Brass. Opening the door, Greg momentarily glanced up before lowering his eyes again. He looked so guilty that had the body not been a doll Nick would have suspected him immediately. Brass asked him to step out of the vehicle and turn around.

"You're releasing me?" Greg asked, astonished as Brass slid the cuffs off.

"Your dead body is nothing more than a Barbie doll." Jim muttered turning to his men and signalling for them to pack up. Greg looked perplexed.

"I don't understand."

"None of us do, Greg." Nick replied before telling Greg what they had found in his apartment. Greg listened, his face impassive until Nick stopped speaking.

"Great! I called half of LVPD down here for a dead doll. Ecklie's going to love that."

"She's pretty real looking. She fooled everyone, including Brass."

Greg gave him a sidelong look. "That really doesn't make me feel any better." He said softly, running his fingers through his hair. "What's she doing here?"

Nick turned, following Greg's line of sight and saw Adrienne poking about in his garbage.

"She's supposedly the voice of impartiality."

"Well the criminal always returns to the crime scene." Greg said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Nick gave him a strange look before turning back to watch her rummaging about. Did Greg really suspect Adrienne in this? She was a pain in the ass but she was not a criminal master mind. Sighing Nick turned to Greg, pulling his keys out.

"We are going to be here a while trying to figure this out. You can crash in my spare room."

"Thanks." He gazed at Adrienne again. "Keep an eye on her. There's something about her that I don't trust."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** - Thanks to BekiC for reading this draft and telling me to stop waffling in places! LOL! And also for listening to my boring drivelling on all night about CSI and forensics and post-mortems. LOL! Hope you like it! I put lots of Warrick in especially for you!

So anywho, I wrote this instead of doing a very important piece of crap for uni! I might fail my degree but in all honesty I would rather write this. This chapter is a VERY long one. One of the longest so far actually. Feedback as always, is apprieciated. Thanks to anyone who takes the time to do so. Constructive criticism the most useful tool! Anywho, I have to actually do some work now! Next chapter will be done as soon as I find a spare hour to write it.

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**Chapter Seven **

"You found anything?"

Warrick glanced up from the table in the AV lab and yawned. It had been a long night and it looked set to be an even longer morning. The night shift had finished hours ago but no one had even mentioned going home.

Everyone wanted to figure this out. They wanted answers. The problem was there didn't seem to be any. However they all knew what could happen when suspects wanted revenge on CSIs. It never ended well and they all cared too much about Greg not to figure this out.

"This is all too goddamn weird." He muttered at Catherine as she walked into the room and glanced at the computer screen as if it held all the answers. Passing a weary hand over her eyes, she yawned. Warrick had to stop himself from following suit. He had been working on this now for over four hours and he was exhausted. The results he had pulled up were strange at best.

"Weird how?" She asked, then shrugged. "Well apart from the obvious."

"I ran the answer machine track from Greg's apartment through the computer and I'm telling you the results aren't right." Catherine frowned at him, unsure what he meant. Warrick sighed before continuing. "Well the first two messages come from outside numbers. I traced the first one to Greg's mom, and the other to his doctor's surgery. The last message, however, has no phone records."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"It was recorded in the apartment directly onto the tape."

Catherine gave him a sharp look. "The suspect sets the body up, poses it, douses it with fake blood then stops to record a message in the apartment before sticking a CD on and switching the electricity off?"

Warrick nodded. "Weird, I know."

She leant against the desk, tapping her fingers on the surface, her expression thoughtful. This case was so strange. Grissom had briefed them on what they had found at Greg's apartment and sent them all off to analyse various parts of the crime scene but Warrick had found the entire thing baffling. He'd been a CSI for a long time and he'd seen some bizarre things but this was probably the strangest.

"He must have known he would have time to do that. I mean it's fairly risky. Greg could have come home at any point."

"I'm guessing the suspect knew Greg was here tonight."

"Which means he's being followed." Catherine pursed her lips together. "This whole thing stinks."

"You're telling me." Warrick grunted, rubbing his eyes. They were beginning to itch. He needed sleep.

"Is there anyway to trace the voice?"

"Its computer generated."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I thought it might have been. Can you get anything from it at all?"

Warrick shook his head. "Whoever made this knew what they were doing." He sank back into his stool, resting his elbows on the table. "What did the 'blood' throw up?"

"We're still waiting for the results to come back."

"Griss found anything about the doll?"

Catherine shrugged. "Not yet. He's trying to track down the company that made it."

Warrick nodded, understanding. "We get the person who bought it maybe we can find out what the hell all of this is about."

"Right on the nail." Catherine smiled at him.

They both glanced up as Nick appeared in the doorway. He looked exhausted. More tired than Warrick had ever seen him.

"Hey Nick, what's up?" Catherine asked, as he leaned against the frame.

"Griss has called a meeting for half past in the conference room. He wants everyone to relay their findings."

"Ok, thanks."

Nick shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Man, this whole thing sucks."

None of them disagreed but there was nothing any of them could do about it until they had the evidence. However the evidence was the one thing that seemed to be severely lacking.

"How's Greg?" Warrick asked. Nick winced.

"He's in the break room. He wanted to help out here but Griss practically ordered him back to my apartment. But you know Greg, he's so goddamn stubborn he wouldn't go."

Warrick sighed deeply. "Any ideas who did this yet?"

Nick shrugged. "Brass is looking into the family of Demetrius James and Sara's rooting up any old cases. So far though, nothing."

They fell into an uneasy silence. It was broken by a blond girl sticking her head around the door. She was tall for a woman, standing at around five foot eight, and her blond curly hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Warrick recognised her from the day shift but he could never remember her name. He was pretty sure she worked in the DNA lab however and so sat up straight to listen.

"Cath? You got a minute?"

"Sure, Emily, what you got?"

_Emily Wade_.

Warrick remembered her name just as Catherine said it. He realised he was so ignorant about the other shifts. He knew the other CSIs on days and swings but he had never given the lab techs much thought. He made a mental note to try and be more perceptive in future.

Emily walked into the room, spreading the papers she was clutching onto the table. She took an infuriatingly long time to present them before finally speaking. Warrick studied her whole demeanour for a moment and noted that she was probably a perfectionist : most of the lab techs were, even Greg was to an extent. He could almost picture the rows of alphabetised books on her shelves at home.

"Your blood came back as a mixture of corn syrup, washing detergent, condensed milk, and blue and red food colouring. All the ingredients I used to use as a kid on Halloween to make fake blood. Cheap, effective and a damn pain to wash out of your clothes. My mom used to curse me. Everything she washed for weeks after came out with a red stain across it."

"Yeah, and they're all things you can pick up in any store across the country." Warrick added, frustrated.

Catherine exhaled deeply. "Nothing we can trace to anywhere then."

She didn't have to say how disappointed she was, they all were. They had all hoped the blood would be a registered product. That way they could have located the company that made it and maybe discovered who had purchased it. Even that was a long shot but all they had at the moment were long shots. Very long shots. The suspect was clever at hiding his tracks. Too clever.

"Well maybe not." Emily replied, scratching her head. "But at least we know its home made."

"Short of visiting every home in Vegas and looking for the one with the vat of home brewed blood I don't see how that helps." Nick grunted irritably.

Emily gave a helpless shrug. "I just analyse this stuff. Its up to you guys to put it all together."

"What else did you find out?" Catherine asked, casting a warning glare at Nick.

"Dr Grissom gave me the clothes to look over. I didn't find DNA on any of it but I did find something interesting in the hair." She pulled one of the reports to the front and pointed at the sprawling diagram. "It's human."

The three of them snapped their eyes to Emily's face. "Human?" Nick's tone was somewhere between surprise and disgust.

"Yep. I ran it through twice just to be sure, but it's definitely human."

"Any matches through CODIS?"

"Not yet but it's still running."

"Everything else on the scene was fake apart from the hair." Catherine frowned deeply. "Why is none of this making any sense?"

"Because none of this does make sense." Nick muttered.

"What's so significant about the hair?" Catherine mused.

"God knows." Warrick said, drawing a complete blank.

"Maybe it's not supposed to be significant." Emily interjected with a shrug, gathering up her reports.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, intrigued.

"Well from what Dr Grissom has said this entire thing was staged to get Greg's attention. Maybe this is part of that."

"You mean a diversion? The suspect knows we'll look into whatever the hair turns up but this guy's too clever to leave any evidence and even if he did slip up he's not stupid enough to leave a whole wig of his own DNA." Catherine scowled. "He's sending us on a wild goose chase."

She shrugged again. "Like I said, I just analyse this stuff. I'll let you know if CODIS turns anything up."

"Thanks Emily." Catherine murmured, deep in thought.

Nick watched her go and turned back to Catherine. "How long has she worked here?"

"For about the last year." Catherine rolled her eyes. "Honestly Nick, do you notice anything passed your own nose?"

He moved his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You guys want to get ready for this meeting?" Catherine said, turning and leaving the AV lab. Warrick watched her go before shaking his head.

"This feels like a set up."

Nick pulled a face. "Yeah, Greg's definitely the bait but for what?"

Warrick thought the question over in his mind. He had no idea. Sighing he gathered up his results, and followed Nick out of the lab, heading across the hallway into the conference room whilst Nick went to get his own findings. Warrick had expected to find it empty and so was surprised to see Adrienne sat at the long table surrounded by a mass of paperwork. She half glanced up at him under her smart black framed glasses.

"Sorry." She apologised, shifting some of her files around to try and contain her mess to a smaller area. "I couldn't find anywhere else to work that was quiet."

"Yeah it's pretty crazy here today, huh?"

Warrick pulled a chair out opposite her and sank into it. Absently he glanced up at the clock. It was just after eleven a.m. No wonder he was tired. He had been working for over fourteen hours now.

"What you working on?" He asked, craning his neck to see.

"Uh…I've located who made the dolls, I'm just processing the info." She fumbled with a few pieces of paper for a moment before pulling her glasses off and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. I've been awake for twenty-four hours now. Forming sentences is becoming an issue." When Warrick gave her a puzzled look she gave him a crooked smile. "They were short on days so I covered that after my night shift. I wasn't supposed to be here tonight."

Her tone was slightly irritable and it irked Warrick a little. She didn't really know Greg, this was true, but he was sure that if something like this had happened to her he would have been here beyond his shift helping out. He resisted scowling and instead gave her a reproachful stare but she had already returned back to her notes and didn't notice.

"I suppose though when something like this happens I can hardly bail out to go home and sleep." She continued, still furiously scrawling on her notepad, "Besides Conrad wanted me here."

The sentence struck Warrick as odd until he realised the meaning behind her words. Ecklie wanted her to keep an eye on them. His face pulled into a sour frown of its own accord and he fell into a thoughtful silence that wasn't broken until the door opened.

Sara entered with a file tucked neatly under her arm. He had never been so grateful to see someone. He was beginning to get uncomfortable in the silence. It wasn't something he was used to. Sara had pulled her hair back into a band and looked as tired as everyone else did. She had, however, taken the initiative and was sipping on a cup of coffee. Taking a seat next to Warrick she opened the file and tipped her head back, rubbing her eyes.

"Tired?" Warrick asked.

"Exhausted." She said stifling a yawn as if for effect. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Nope. You?"

She shook her head. "This is so frustrating."

Warrick agreed. It was like everything at that scene led to a cold trail. They needed answers. If it was a hit against the lab then any one of them could be next. After what had happened to Nick in the past, Warrick seriously hoped it would never come to that. He couldn't bear to see one of his friends in that kind of situation again. Subconsciously he shuddered.

After a moment Nick and Catherine arrived at almost the same time followed in by Hodges, Mia, Bobby and Emily. Ecklie slipped in with Brass and Sofia Curtis and glanced around the heaving room. Grissom arrived a moment later, sweeping into the room like storm brewing on the horizon. He took everyone in with a quick flick of his eyes over the top of his glasses before taking a seat at the head of the table. For a change the room was silent. There were no idle conversations. No one wanted to make small talk; they just wanted to get down to business. Grissom would have been the last into the conference room but the door opened and Greg stepped in. All eyes turned to the CSI level one.

If they all looked exhausted Greg looked like a walking corpse. His pale skin was smudged black under his eyes and his hair was tousled. For a moment Warrick thought Grissom was going to ask him to leave but he signalled for him to join them. Greg obliged, taking a chair offered to him by Nick who vacated it and instead found a spot on the wall to lean against.

"Ok. Let's keep this brief." Grissom started. "Sara, what have you found?"

"I went through the previous cases Greg has handled and the only possible suspects I've turned up are Jeffrey Farrell, a drunk driver. He went down for three years for careless driving. He was released four weeks ago. The rest are petty thieves. A car jacker, got twelve months, released a month and a half ago. A sexual assault case, the guy, Tim Rotherman, was never charged with anything because we couldn't get enough evidence, but he lost his job following it, and his wife recently filed for divorce. Nothing really substantial. No one that really jumps out."

"Warrick?"

Warrick relayed his finding. The others hadn't particularly found anything of use either. Brass had been and spoken to Demetrius' James brother but he had an alibi for all of last night. Emily told them about the blood but the real news came when Adrienne told them her findings.

"Well I located the company were these dolls are made. It's located just outside of Vegas. As far as I can tell these dolls aren't made for the most… uh…" She broke off, blushing a little, "…scrupulous purposes."

Grissom raised his brow. "Care to elaborate."

She sighed, realising she wasn't going to get away with not explaining. "Basically, they're uh…'special' toys. Life sized ones. Made to look real, feel real and, well, to be used as… real women. The hair on them is real because they are all crafted with real hair. Everything about them is supposed to be authentic and when I say everything, I mean _everything_." She frowned. "They're fairly expensive but I suppose if that's what floats your boat…"

"You got any names?"

"The company are reluctant to release client information."

"You've sorted it I assume?"

"I've got a warrant for the CEO of the company." She said with a nod. "I'll head down with Detective Brass and get them myself."

"Ok." Grissom nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Anyone got anything else of interest to add?"

No one spoke and so the meeting broke up. Greg remained seated, chewing on his nails. Warrick exchanged glances with Nick.

"You ok?" Warrick asked.

Greg glanced up. "Yeah, I mean who wouldn't be? Someone left a special toy covered in fake blood in my bedroom. It would be funny if it wasn't so fricking weird."

Nick frowned at him. "We'll find whoever did this Greg."

"I know. That's what you guys do. Find the evidence. Bury the perp. I got ya." He tried to smile but failed. "I just want my life back. Free of Barbie dolls and messages written on my walls in blood… or cooking ingredients."

"You should go home and sleep." Nick told him.

"Yeah. You're right." Greg chose that moment to yawn although he tried to stifle it with little success.

"It'll be ok, man." Warrick said as he tried to give him a reassuring smile. Greg seemingly bought it, however, and got to his feet.

"You sure you don't mind me crashing at yours?" He asked Nick. He shook his head.

"Of course not."

"Thanks Nick." He started to walk of but half turned back. "Does this mean I have to put you back on my Christmas card list?"

It was such a strange thing to say under the circumstances but so typically Greg that they both laughed at him.

"I'm serious. I need to know these things." Greg said unable to stop the edge of his lips from twitching.

"Yeah, yeah!" Nick cuffed him on the back playfully. "Get out of here before I have you sort through your own garbage."

Greg laughed easily and held his hands up defensively. "I'm going." He paused, his face turning suddenly sombre. "You will let me know if anything develops."

"Sure." Nick said, his tone matching his.

Satisfied, Greg turned and left. Nick and Warrick stood in silence for a moment.

"We can solve this, cant we?" Nick said after a moment. Warrick wanted to shrug but instead he nodded.

"Of course we can. That's why we get paid the big bucks." He replied jovial.

But Warrick didn't believe his own words and he certainly didn't feel confident at the moment. All the evidence had hit a brick wall and with no evidence they had no way of moving forward. Sighing he headed back to the lab, hoping he could drag something out of nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight **

Greg felt despondent. He had listened to everything that had been said and come to his own conclusions: they had nothing. They were no closer to finding out who had left that present in his apartment now then they had been last night. He had tried to smile and act as if it was all going to be fine, mostly for the team's sake, but he really couldn't see it. Nothing felt right. He held his tongue, however and did not say anything. He knew they were working their asses off and he didn't want them to feel inept. No doubt they already felt bad enough. They were used to getting results. _He_ was used to getting results. However maybe he was expecting too much. It hadn't even been ten hours yet.

As he wandered passed the lab he was stopped by a voice. He back tracked and saw Emily, one of the day lab techs. She gestured for him to come in and he complied.

"How you doing, Greg?"

"Tired and hungry. Mostly I want to go home and sleep. And by home I mean Nick's. I'm hoping he doesn't have any sort of doll fetishes."

Emily laughed a little. "How do you see the funny side in everything?" She asked, grabbing a Petri dish out of one of the cupboards behind her. He merely shrugged.

"I laugh in the face of danger."

She shook her head almost incredulously. "Anyway, I did call you in for a reason."

"Which was?"

Emily signalled the microscope. "I need a second opinion and Mia's on a break. I'd ask Hodges but I can't stand his smug expression when he thinks he's got one over on me."

Greg half smiled. He knew that feeling all too well. Hodges was beyond self-righteous at times. He pulled the stool up, shifting onto it and used the desk to wheel it closer, before gazing down the lens. He studied it carefully for a moment before pushing back from the scope. It looked to be a belt loop. She was attempting to match it to a pair of black pants.

"The two materials are similar but not an exact match. There's a slight difference in the surface texture."

She nodded. "I though so. It's difficult to tell with the colour."

"Is this from-"

He stopped before he said 'my case'. It felt a little odd having everyone working on something that revolved around him. He wasn't used to being the victim. It was unsettling to have the shoe on the other foot.

"No." She shook her head, knowing where he had been going. "It's from a homicide that Catherine and Warrick processed last night. They found the loop at the scene but the pants belong to the suspect." She pulled a face. "I don't think this is the answer they're going to want."

"The truth is all they want, Emily." He said smiling.

She flashed a smile back at him before yawning. Everyone seemed to be doing nothing but yawning lately. It had been a stupidly long night.

"What time are you on till?" He asked, absently tidying a stack of labels that had fallen over and were sliding across the work surface.

"Three." She said glancing at the clock with a slight roll of her eyes, it wasn't even noon yet. "Hopefully the swing shift will come in early though, just to take some of the slack. I'm beyond tired. I think I'm working on empty right now. I don't think I've ever processed so much in one night."

Greg shrugged. "Take a break. No one will mind. You've been on since four am."

She laughed. "Are you kidding? If I'm not here and someone needs results they'll flog my ass in the corridor!"

He smirked. "Unfortunately that is true."

She half pushed him away, giving him a reproachful glare. "Get out of my lab, Sanders! Before I find you something to do."

He rose, laughing but stopped at the door, turning back to her. "It was my lab before it was yours, Wade."

Giving him a dark look, she dropped her hands onto her hips. "Do you want me to spike your coffee with laxatives?" She said coolly, her brow arching.

Greg smirked. "I'm going."

"Yeah, you better run." She said, a small grin enveloping her face as she lowered her eyes back to her work.

Still smirking Greg entered the locker room and pulled it open, dragging his rucksack out. He was just shrugging his jacket on when the door opened. He glanced up as Sara entered. She looked exhausted.

"I thought you had gone home." She said, opening her own locker.

"Just on my way now." He replied. "You look like you _need_ to be at home yourself."

"Yeah, Griss said something similar." She muttered.

"Are you ignoring the boss?" He feigned surprise.

"No. I'm going. Even if I wanted to stay I don't think I can keep my eyes open any longer."

"Ah. The old 'falling asleep in the evidence' trick? You got enough energy to grab some breakfast?" He lowered his eyes to his watch. "Scrap that. Lunch."

"Yeah I could eat." She smiled.

"Great. Is anyone else leaving now or are they all working till they burn out?" He tried to keep the guilt out of his voice but he couldn't. He felt bad that he had caused this.

"I think Catherine and Warrick have already left but Nick and Grissom are still here."

"Let's gather the troops." She gave him a strange look.

"You make it sound like a military operation. It's only food."

"Trying to organise anything in this place _is_ a military operation." He countered.

Grissom and Nick both joined them and they also had been forced into asking Adrienne. Greg hadn't wanted to but she had been in the lab with Nick. It would have been rude not to. The five of them piled between Sara's and Adrienne's cars and headed down to the diner where they spent most mornings eating breakfast after shift.

Once they had each ordered, they found an empty booth and all took a seat. Adrienne pulled a chair up to the end of the table, sticking out into the middle of the walkway. It was poignant in a way. Stuck on the edge like that she really did seem to be outside of the group. In a way she was. It took a long time to be accepted into the team. They had all worked together for so long that welcoming outsiders was difficult.

Greg half listened as his friends discussed various menial life things. Nick was half way through telling a story about one of his college tricks that got out of hand when the food was called. Nick, Sara and Adrienne headed over to the counter to get their orders. Greg began to rise to help but Nick waved him back down, leaving him with Grissom. He yawned uncontrollably, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Long night." Grissom spoke softly.

"Longest night ever." Greg responded with a wry smile. Grissom merely studied him for a moment.

"It's the things that we don't expect that scar us the most." Grissom replied cryptically. Greg grunted, taking a sip on his soda. He supposed it was Grissom's way of asking Greg if he was going to be ok.

"Maybe me and CSI Barbie can become friends."

He shrugged, trying to add some levity to the situation but it was too soon for joking. He didn't feel good-humoured. Last night had been a real test on his nerves. Sighing, he brushed his fingers through his hair.

"I'm just a little freaked that someone has been in my apartment," Greg said finally. "I'm definitely getting my locks changed."

"I think that might be wise." Grissom deadpanned. He was hard to read sometimes and Greg wondered if there was a hint of humour in his face. If there was it disappeared immediately. "Do you want an officer to accompany you home?"

"What? No. Really, there's no need. I'm staying at Nick's tonight and I'll sort the lock change tomorrow. I'm not going to let this guy drive me out of my own apartment."

Grissom nodded but didn't say anything further as the others returned with their food. Adrienne slid Greg's waffles across the table to him before resuming her seat again. Idly he poked at his food before shoving more than a forkful into his mouth.

"You do know you're supposed to chew before you swallow, Greg?" Nick joked.

"I know. It just saves time." Greg bounced back.

They all laughed and for a moment it was as if last night had never happened. Predictably, however, it was only a matter of time before work came up. They had begun discussing the case and Greg took the opportunity to zone out. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about it because he did, he just couldn't listen to it right now. It felt too raw and despite knowing the body wasn't real it still freaked him out thinking that someone had put that in his apartment. To make matters worse the answer machine message had made it clear that this was only the beginning. He wondered what psychotic schemes this weirdo could possibly come up with to top the dead doll. It didn't bear thinking about.

He wondered what he had done to cause this. Maybe he had pissed someone off and not realised. This was definitely personal. It was too calculated not to be. Passing a weary hand over his eyes he sank back into the seat, his whole body fighting fatigue. His brain felt like it had been stuffed with straw. In fact, truth be told, he felt a little light headed. He almost wished he hadn't suggested food now. He was too exhausted.

He lowered his head a little as pressure built across his forehead, absently massaging his temples. The voices around him became muffled and distorted and a strange buzzing sound filled his ears. His eyes stung with the need to close but he forced them open. He felt his chest constrict as if someone was stood on his lungs, forcing the air out of them.

"Greg?" He snapped his attention to the table and realised everyone was staring at him, concern etched onto their faces.

"Sorry. Zoned out." He muttered, his words feeling thick in his mouth as he tried to draw air in.

"Are you all right buddy?" Greg vaguely heard Nick drone but everything sounded wrong, like it was coming to him from under water. He shook his head slightly as if he could clear the fuzz but it remained stubbornly there.

"Greg?"

He hadn't even realised he was on his feet until he felt strong hands pushing him back into his chair. He batted them away, grabbing desperately at his rucksack. Someone tried to take it from him but he wouldn't let them. Between laboured breaths he managed to get two words out.

"Inhaler… bag."

Swaying a little in his seat he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him and took a deep breath, willing his stomach to sit still. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing up. Just breathe.

He felt something covering his mouth and panicking he tried to fight it, feeling suddenly vulnerable until he heard a familiar voice telling him to breath into it. He complied, not knowing what else to do and thankfully it passed after a moment, his chest returning slowly to normal respiration.

As his vision cleared he became aware that his friends were all studying him, their faces grim. Glancing at what covering his face, he saw that he was breathing into a paper bag. With a slightly detached thought he realised he had hyperventilated. He raised his eyes to the side, almost wishing he hadn't as a wave of dizziness washed over him and saw Adrienne had the bag clamped to his face.

"Just keep breathing." She murmured softly. He obeyed without question. He didn't think he could have argued even if he had wanted to.

After a couple of minutes his head had cleared enough for him to make sense of where he was. Slowly he raised his head.

"What… happened?" He asked, his breathing still laboured.

"I didn't know you were asthmatic." Nick's colour had drained from his face.

"Haven't had an attack in years." Greg murmured, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He was aware of his inhaler in his hand and unsure whether he had actually managed to take it or not he took two deep breaths on it, the cold, dry spray tickling a little as it hit the back of his throat.

"Greg? Do you think you can walk?" Grissom's voice floated across the table to him.

"I'm fine." Greg said, not really sure who he was trying to convince: them or himself.

"I'll take him to the hospital if you want." Adrienne volunteered. "I live that way anyway."

"I'm fine really." Greg protested, not wanting a fuss but the others would not be swayed. Before he knew it Adrienne and Nick were pushing him into her car and driving towards the University Medical Centre.

Once they had booked him in at reception, Nick and Adrienne took a seat with him in the waiting room. His breathing was almost back to normal now and so he was not a priority. To his dismay the triage nurse had informed him there was a two hour wait to see the doctor. He just wanted to go home and sleep. This was quickly becoming an even longer day. Scowling, he crossed his arms over his chest wishing they weren't so stubborn.

"This is pointless." Greg complained. "I'm fine."

"You went blue Greg." Nick countered. "Besides, there's no harm in making sure."

Greg scowled again but didn't argue further. In truth he felt like crap but he would never admit it. Adrienne hovered a little.

"I'm covering swing shift." Was all she said but they understood the meaning of her words. She needed to go home and sleep. She only had a couple of hours as it was. Greg absently waved.

"Go home and rest. We'll get a cab back."

"Are you sure?" He nodded and she smiled faintly. "Take care of yourself."

Greg watched her leave almost wishing he could just go with her. He hated hospitals. Absently he wondered if he had got her wrong. She had probably saved his life in the diner. He frowned a little. He didn't like it when his perceptions were changed.

"You do know," He began, shaking his head, "all they will do is listen to my chest and send me home to rest." Nick shrugged.

"I think we've had enough excitement without you expiring on us."

Greg laughed. Not because the situation was funny but because sat within the sterile reality of the hospital the whole drama of the last twenty-four hours seemed insane.

"You couldn't make this up." He muttered. Nick glanced at him, frowning momentarily before joining him.

"You certainly have a flair for histrionics."

"Yep. That's me; Greg Sanders, CSI level one, Drama Queen level ten."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** Thanks to everyone who reviewed again. Your comments are better than cookies :D I feel like I'm kind of racing at a 100mph with this story but I seem to have developed a slight obsession with it. I'm sorry if I'm giving you all motion sickness! Although I figure the quick updates are a good thing...? All I can suggest is take an anti-emetic, and fast your seatbelts, it doesnt look set to stop any time! I really hope you're all enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. I know its a little story-centric and lacks romance but what can I say, I'm a cynic when it comes to love! LOL! Hopefully the lack of lovey-dovey stuff doesnt make a difference and I hope the plot more than makes up for it. Anywho, I'm going to shush now and stop rambling on so you can read! Thoughts, comments and donations always welcome :D (well maybe not donations but it was worth a try!!!)

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**Chapter Nine**

The verdict from the hospital was just as Greg predicted. He was to go home and rest. Greg had learnt a long time that most doctors thought the majority of illnesses could be cured by resting. It was probably written in the doctor-hypochondriacs handbook.

Absolutely exhausted Nick showed him to the guest room and handed him some fresh blankets before trudging off to his own bed. Greg sank onto the edge of the double divan, absently glancing around the small room whilst he tugged his shoes off.

It was sparsely furnished, containing nothing more than the bed, a set of drawers and a chair in the corner. As with the rest of the apartment the walls were painted in a claustrophobic dark green that made the walls seemingly push further into the room than they actually were. Too tired to even contemplate undressing he crawled under the covers fully clothed and was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

He wasn't sure what had woken him and it was a couple of moments before he realised his phone was ringing. Dragging himself out of sleep he picked his cell up and answered it, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Sanders." He muttered drowsily. As the voice on the end of the phone responded he snapped awake. "Grissom…? Uh huh…" He continued to make listening noises for a couple of seconds as the conversation persisted before finally saying. "Yeah Thursday at eleven, I remember. Thanks."

Hanging up he sighed deeply, his stomach sinking. As if he didn't have enough to deal with without that. Swinging his legs out of bed, he noticed the room was beginning to fade into the dull tones of sunset. He flicked the bedside lamp on and glanced at his watch. He was more than a little surprised to see he had only been asleep for a couple of hours.

Rising, he dragged his fingers through his hair and wandered down the hallway into the kitchen. It took him a couple of minutes to locate a glass – apparently Nick's logic of where things should live in his cupboards wasn't the same as any other normal human being – and running the tap he filled it before sipping it slowly. The call had set him on edge and despite his lack of sleep he knew there was no way he would rest now. He glanced at his watch and scowled. It was only eight-thirty.

Dropping onto the couch he debated watching some television but his mind was too frayed to deal with the noise. Instead he leant his head against the back rest and sighed deeply.

He didn't know how he felt about anything at the moment. It was as if he had just got his life into some semblance of order and in one night everything had changed. He wished Grissom had never sent him out to bag up that sweater and most of all he wished he had never heard the name Demetrius James. Since September nothing had gone right for him. The last month had been the worst time of his life. He had killed someone, nearly been beaten to death, and was facing a civil suit. On top of that he now had some crazy weirdo stalking him. He wondered if this was what zebras felt like when they knew they were surrounded by a pride of lions. Unfortunately, like the zebras, Greg could do nothing but sit back and see which one would eat him first.

"I thought I heard you get up."

Greg rolled his head to the side, not bothering to lift it off the couch, as Nick padded across the living room floor, dropping next to him. He looked exhausted still, his eyes lined with black smudges and as if to highlight his fatigue he yawned.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No. I was already up. I couldn't sleep." Nick rubbed a hand over his shaved head. "Why are you awake?"

"Phone call. I really should start switching it off." He grumbled.

Nick studied him for a moment. "News about the case?" He asked, concerned by his mood. Greg thought about lying but then decided it was pointless. They would all find out sooner or later.

"It was Grissom. Just reminding me about my hearing on Thursday."

"Hearing?" For a moment Nick looked puzzled and then nodded as realisation set in. "About Demetrius James?"

"Yeah. With everything that has happened I had completely forgotten about it." Greg sighed.

"Not really the best timing, huh?"

"To be honest with you I just want it over with." Greg replied. "I want to get back to work and carry on with my normal life. Well as normal as my life can be."

Nick smiled a little. "Greg, there is nothing normal about you." It was a crude attempt at levity but it momentarily worked.

"It's only child syndrome. I like the attention 'weird' gets me. Hence the ridiculously loud shirts."

Silence swept down on them both and it was a while before either of them spoke. "Do you think what happened last night was linked to Demetrius James?" Greg asked quietly.

Nick studied his hands, his brow furrowing. "I don't know." He glanced up, forcing a smile. "We'll find out whoever is behind this, Greg. It's what we do."

Greg let out a ragged breath. He hoped they would find out sooner rather than later. He was sick of having crap hanging over his head like a perpetual rain cloud.

"Are you working tonight?" Greg inquired, not wanting to dwell on it.

"I'm going in, yeah." Nick answered. Greg translated that to mean he wasn't supposed to be on shift but he was going in anyway. He was just as anxious for answers as Greg was.

"I wish I could come in with you. I feel so helpless doing nothing."

"If you feel up to it I'm sure Griss won't mind you coming in."

Greg gave him a wry smile. "He said if I set foot in the lab he'll have my ID pass revoked."

"I'll keep you updated." He promised.

They ordered pizza for delivery and once they had eaten Nick headed off to shower and dress. Greg flicked abstractedly through the multitude of channels on his cable before switching it off. He decided he would try and sleep again once Nick had gone to the lab. His eyes were burning with lack of rest.

Appearing from the bedroom, Nick headed over to the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, throwing one to Greg.

"Help yourself to whatever you want. There are some TV dinners in the freezer if you get hungry later and I've left some fresh towels in the bathroom." Nick told him, as he grabbed his car keys, stuffing his soda into his bag.

"Thanks."

Nick nodded. "Try and get some rest, ok?"

"Yeah I will." Greg assured him.

Nick departed just after half nine and Greg was left alone in the apartment. Forcing himself to his feet he showered, shaved, and changed into a pair of jogging pants before crawling into bed. He didn't think he would be able to get back to sleep but he quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The next few days passed in a blur of insipid drudgery. Nick was on shift for the next three nights and so he came home in the early hours of the morning and slept through till the mid-afternoon. Greg, who, due to his month off was back on normal hours and so was awake at nine am. He would get up, potter around for a while, and watch a little TV before Nick rose. They would then grab a movie, or play video games whilst Greg interrogated him about his case before Nick went back to the lab. Nothing seemed to be progressing however and regardless of Nick's confidence that they were closer to finding something, Greg realised he was simply saying what he thought he wanted to hear. They would never figure this out. There wasn't a single print, scrap of DNA nor trace. It as if the doll had been locked in a sterile suit.

Despite having the locks changed at his apartment, Greg was reluctant to return home but by Wednesday he was beginning to feel as if he had imposed himself on his friend for long enough. He knew Nick didn't mind him staying but even so it had been four days and it seemed pointless putting it off any longer. Besides he wanted to be back in his own surroundings before his medical leave ended. Grissom would never let him back to work if he thought he was leaning on Nick. He needed to show he was coping and to do that he needed to face his personal demons.

When Greg had told Nick he was returning home he had nodded but insisted on coming with him. The drive across town was silent. Neither of them uttered a word. Nick was worried about him returning to his apartment alone when that maniac was still out there, but Greg was more anxious about being treated as a victim. He felt like such a statistic.

As they pulled up into the parking lot outside his home, a stab of fear ran through him. What if this happened again? He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to control his emotions.

"You don't have to do this if you're not ready." Nick said, casting a glance at him.

"I need to get my life back and part of my life is here."

Greg slowly stepped out of the car and walked up to his door. He studied the yellow crime scene tape that was still covering it before dragging it down and sticking his new key into the lock.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The air was stale with a mixture of chemicals and that musty stench of not being properly aired. Greg wrinkled his nose, wondering if all crime scenes smelt like this after being processed.

Roving his eyes around his living room he found everything exactly as he had left it. He wondered if he had expected them to trash his house looking for evidence. He guessed he had expected it to look different. It certainly felt different. Strange, yet familiar. Everything felt tainted, dirty almost. It was his apartment but it was not how he remembered it. It no longer felt like his own secure cocoon. He noticed his answer machine was gone and his mind briefly flashed to it sitting in an evidence bag in the lab: a hostage of the state.

Sighing he dropped his holdall onto the rug and studied the doorway into the hall. He knew he would have to go into his bedroom at some point but he wasn't sure he could do it yet. Nick, sensing his trepidation, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you want to do it together?" He asked softly.

Greg shrugged. He wasn't sure what he wanted. After a long moment he nodded. He didn't think he would be strong enough to do it by himself. Hesitantly he began the longest walk of his life. It was less than two metres from the living room to his bedroom but it felt as if the hallway had grown twenty feet longer. He paused at the door and Nick shifted his gaze to him before he opened the door himself.

Stepping into the room, Greg had expected to see the blood soaked carpet, wall and the body lying there but he was pleasantly surprised. The wall had been painted - he could tell by the slightly different shade of magnolia - and although someone had tried to clean the blood off his dark blue carpet there was still a dark patch. He exhaled deeply.

"Well at least they cleaned up."

Nick gave him a lopsided smile. "Griss painted the wall himself."

Greg raised a brow but said nothing. Spinning on his heel he wandered back into the living room and sank onto the couch. He was glad it was clean but he couldn't stand to be in that room yet. It was too soon. Nick followed after a moment.

"You want to play for a bit?" he asked, inclining his head at the play station strewn in front of the television. Greg shrugged.

"Sure."

It wasn't from any desire to play but he didn't want to be alone just yet. They passed the rest of the afternoon hanging out, playing video games and drinking soda. For a time Greg almost forgot that four days ago a crazed stalker had been in his house but when Nick left at eight to get ready for work Greg found his mind mulling over things. What had he done to catch this psycho's attention? The question rolled around his head like a maelstrom until finally exhaustion consumed him, forcing him to rest. He slept on the couch that night.

The next morning after a broken night's sleep Greg woke early. He had been plagued with dreams last night, dreams of bodies, sometimes it had been the doll, other times it had been him, or Nick or even Sara. At one point it had even been the day shift lab tech Emily. That had freaked him out the most. He was hardly close to her.

Showering, Greg knew he would have to go into the bedroom to get some clean clothes. It was his civil law suit today. He needed to look presentable and he didn't have anything in his holdall that constituted as presentable. Running his tongue over his dry lips he took a deep breath and went in. As quickly as was humanly possible he grabbed a black shirt, suit, belt and smart shoes. He was in and out in less than a minute. He dressed in the living room and headed out to pick up so breakfast en-route.

It was just after ten am when he arrived at the lab. Heading for the break room, he flopped into a chair and pulled his toasted sandwich out. He wasn't really hungry but he didn't know how long this meeting would take and he didn't want his stomach growling through the proceedings. He glanced up, mid bite, as the door opened.

"I thought I saw you skulking in." Catherine said, her hands on her hips. Her blonde hair hung loosely over her shoulders, perfect as usual and her black pants suit was neatly pressed. She moved into the room, and leant against the table next to him.

"I didn't skulk." Greg protested. "I walked. Quickly."

She pressed her lips together studying him. Greg lowered his eyes to his sandwich in an attempt to avoid her gaze. It was the look his mother had often given him when she was fishing for information.

"How you doing, slick?" She asked after a moment, confirming what he had just been thinking.

"I'm good." She gave him a sceptical look. "Ok, I'm not good but I'm dealing with it."

"Well, just remember you don't need to deal alone."

He gave her a small smile. "Thanks Catherine."

"Hey, I'm just looking after my favourite rookie." She smirked.

"I thought Nick was your favourite." He countered. Catherine laughed.

"He just _likes_ to think he is."

"You got anything more on my case?" He asked.

"No." She frowned. "Its weird. No prints, no hair, no trace. Nothing." She paused, shaking her head a little. "You here for your civil hearing?"

"Yeah." He glanced at his watch. "I've got about thirty minutes to burn so I thought I would grab some food and wallow."

She nudged him slightly." Wallowing is certainly not allowed. Not on my shift." Her tone changed when she spoke next. "You'll be fine, Greg." She said seriously. "You did what you had to. Under the circumstances anyone would have done the same."

He shifted his shoulders meaningfully. "It doesn't make it any easier."

Catherine chewed on her lip and let out a small sigh. "You went above the call of duty that night. You saved a man's life. Don't let that slip out of your mind."

"I just hope they don't roast me and leave me for the vultures to feast on." He grunted.

"Ecklie's not going to let that happen."

"Ecklie hates me. Truthfully, he hates us all." He moaned. She gave him an impatient look.

"Ecklie will want to protect the department. That includes you, Greg."

"That makes me feel so much better. He'll watch my ass to look after his own." He muttered derisively.

She rolled her eyes at him. "When did you become so grim? What happened to the happy-go-lucky Greg Sanders?"

"I think he got knocked out of me when I got beaten to crap and murdered a kid."

She shook her head. "Try and be a little bit positive in your hearing. You keep thinking like a killer, they're gonna string you up."

Pushing his fingers through his hair, he leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. "I feel like I'm being punished." He admitted.

Catherine frowned. "For what?"

"I don't know. Maybe this is my past lives coming back to haunt me." She sighed.

"Greg, pull yourself together or in this life your ass is going to be so sore you won't be able to sit for a week."

He gave her a puzzled look. "We are talking about spanking, aren't we?"

She laughed. "You'll be fine."

"I hope so." He said half smiling but with weight behind his words. He really did hope so.

Grissom chose that moment to stick his head around the door. Greg was a little surprised to see him here during the day and when remarked as much the supervisor merely shrugged.

"I'm here for your hearing. You're one of my team." He said, then added. "And I'm giving evidence."

"You are?"

"I sent you out to that call. You came back in an EMT. It's the least I can do."

Greg couldn't say why but he felt better knowing Grissom was going to be there. He glanced at Catherine who had suddenly found the floor intriguing. His attack had hit her hard. She had always looked upon Greg as an almost surrogate son. As she raised her eyes, catching his, he gave her a small reassuring smile.

"Stick to your statement," Grissom continued, "Tell the truth and you'll be fine."

"If this all goes according to plan," Greg asked, "how long will it be till I can get back into the field?"

"You're still on leave till after the weekend." Grissom said.

"I know, but I need to be back here, doing something. I'm starting to get cabin fever."

Grissom nodded. "Monday."

Greg sighed. He wanted to press for earlier but he knew Grissom wouldn't budge on the matter. At least Monday sounded positive. It suggested he would be allowed back out into the field. For a while he had been worried that Ecklie would have him demoted back to the lab.

At quarter to eleven, Greg and Grissom headed down to the civil court house. Neither spoke in the car and even when they got into the building there was an uneasy silence. Greg was almost relieved when Sofia Curtis saw him and wandered over.

"Hey Greg, Grissom."

"Hello Sofia." Grissom responded, smiling faintly.

"Has it started already?" Greg asked, glancing around the deserted foyer. Sofia gazed over her shoulder at the closed doors behind them.

"Warrick's in there now giving a statement."

Sighing, Greg sank onto a row of chairs and placed his head in his hands. He wanted this day to be over.

"I guess that means I don't get to even hear what's being said about me."

Sofia flashed him a sympathetic look. "This is all pretty cut and dry, Greg. It'll be fine."

Greg nodded. Everything would be fine… so everyone kept telling him. As he glanced up he saw Demetrius James' mother. He recognised her from the hospital. A pang of guilt ran through him like electricity and he half rose to his feet.

"Do you think I should… apologise or something?"

Sofia gave him a sharp look, "For what? Her son beat three people to a pulp. Not to mention what his little gang did to you. If you apologise you might as well admit you're guilty." She was right but it didn't make it any easier seeing her crying. "Greg, you didn't do anything wrong. This whole proceeding is just a formality."

"I guess so." He mumbled, his eyes still on the woman.

The hearing dragged on for a further thirty minutes. Grissom was called in first and then Sofia, leaving Greg alone in the foyer. After what seemed like an eternity he was finally called in.

The room was nothing more than a conference room with a long table, four occupied chairs on one side and a vacant one on the other. Ecklie had an unreadable expression plastered on his face and as Greg took a seat he took a moment to study the other three people on the panel. He recognised one as the sheriff but the other two, a black woman of around forty years old and a dark haired man, he did not know.

"This shouldn't take too long, Mr Sanders." The sheriff informed him, shuffling a stack of papers.

Greg listened as they relayed their findings to him. Yes, he should have waited for backup. Yes, they understood why he didn't. No, they didn't believe he had used unreasonable force to subdue Demetrius James. Yes, they thought he had acted well under the circumstances…

It went on and on, round and round in circles until eventually Greg wasn't even sure of what he was being accused of. Finally Ecklie rounded it up.

"Sanders, we believe you acted as you thought appropriate under the circumstances. However, you didn't follow protocol. You were told to wait for assistance and you didn't. This action led directly to the death of Demetrius James."

Greg's heart pounded painfully in his chest. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"However," Ecklie continued, "you saw a man in danger and you responded, even despite the danger to your own life. This panel finds you a competent member of this organisation and with the recommendations of your supervisor and statements you're your colleagues we've come to the conclusion that Demetrius James death was unfortunate but unavoidable."

He stared at them, confused by what it all meant. Ecklie gave him a thin lipped smile.

"No charges are being levelled against you, Greg." He informed him.

"I can go back to work?" He asked, trying to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"As soon as Grissom says you can, yes."

Smiling, Greg rose and shook all four of the panel's hands. He couldn't believe it.

"Thank you."

It wasn't until he was back in the quietness of the foyer that he realised what had just happened. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had a piece of his life back at last. Finally, after four weeks he was free to return back to the thing he loved the most in his life: his job. For the first time since his attack he felt as if something was going right.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** Ok, sorry for posting two chapters in one night but this came to me in a rush of creativity! Thanks to Emily Rae for reviewing the last chapter and welcome onto the express train that is this story! I apologise for the enormity of this chapter. Its probably the longest one I've written to date but I had ALOT to tell you guys in it. I figured it was probably time I got some actual crime stuff into it and so this is my ode to crime. Enjoy. I'll try get the next chapter up for tomorrow. It will depend on my hangover! LOL. Anywho, I'm off to dance like a crazy party weasel so enjoy this.

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**Chapter Ten **

The weekend passed excruciatingly slowly. Greg was grateful when Monday morning finally dawned. Rising from the couch – he still couldn't bring himself to sleep in his own bed – he made a light breakfast and poured himself a glass of juice. He was nervous but excited at the same time. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting to come downstairs and see if Santa had been. He couldn't wait to get back out on shift. Grissom told him he would have to take it easy for a while, having been out of the game for a month, but he was happy for him to be back out on cases. It felt good. Greg felt good.

Busying himself throughout the day he took a shower, shaved and dressed, setting out for the lab at nine pm. He wanted to get there a little early to prepare himself, and when he arrived he made his way straight to the locker room.

"Hey! Welcome back man." Greg grinned as Warrick leaned over the bench and shook his hand.

"Thanks, Warrick. It's good to be back. Day time TV isn't what it used to be."

Warrick laughed. "Yeah they got all those crack whores smacking each other up now a days."

"It supposedly passes for entertainment in civilized society." Greg replied, retying the laces on his sneakers. "You just got off?"

"Just got on. I'm back on grave yard for a while." He explained.

Warrick and Catherine both usually worked the swing shift. Greg missed having them around at times. They only really saw each other on change over or if a big case came in. It would be nice having Warrick on shift with them tonight.

"Do you two lady's want some alone time?" They both glanced up as Hodges entered, heading straight to his locker. Warrick grinned.

"Yeah. Do you mind?"

"Oh, just pretend like I'm not here."

"We do." Greg smirked.

Hodges finally looked up and studied Greg. "It's nice to see you're in high spirits, all things considered."

Greg opened his mouth to retort but Hodges had already swept out of the room. Scowling he settled for shaking his head.

"Hey, ignore him." Warrick told him, patting him on the shoulder. "You ready to get back out there?"

"As ready as ready can be… If ready was a thing that could be ready anyway." He added as an afterthought. Warrick shook his head, his expression amused.

"It's good to know nothing got damaged in that clever head of yours when you were attacked."

Greg merely smiled.

Once Sara, Nick and Adrienne had arrived Grissom called them into his office and handed out assignments without any sort of prelude. Listening absently, he flicked his gaze to Adrienne, studying her. He couldn't figure her out at all. She was a complete enigma. He didn't know whether he liked her or not and after a moments thought he decided it didn't really matter either way.

"Greg!" He snapped his eyes from her to the voice and felt his cheeks redden. Grissom was looking at him with something between amusement and annoyance.

"Sorry. What?"

"It's you, Nick and Sara tonight, you've got a 419." He handed Nick a folder. "Warrick, you're paired with Adrienne on a murder-suicide."

Greg nodded. They had been given a triple homicide in south west Vegas. Sara had a couple of things to sort before she could leave the lab and so Nick and Greg headed out together, collecting their gear on the way.

The scene was a mess. Blood was splattered up the pale walls and a pool had dried around the body itself. As Greg stepped into the room he placed his case on the floor and pulled a pair of gloves onto his hands whilst letting his eyes rove around, taking in every tiny detail.

It was one of those nice condos with a large open plan living space and what appeared to be two bedrooms coming off the main area. Nick wandered passed the body and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Greg to focus on the db in front of him.

Sprawled on the floor of the sitting area the first body was positioned face down along the side of the sofa, completely naked. Greg moved in for a closer look and studied what appeared to be three gunshot wounds in the lower part of his back. Silently he raised the camera and snapped a couple of shots. He was usually the first to share a joke in the lab but for once he felt utterly devoid of anything, let alone humour.

"This is the first vic." Jim Brass muttered absently as he approached him.

The detective rubbed a hand over his head before dropping his hands onto his hips. Greg had known Brass for a long time and he didn't particularly seem phased by what he was seeing. Sometimes he wondered how everyone else managed to push these images out of their minds. Greg could see the faces of every victim he had ever worked on.

"Where's the other two?" Greg asked straightening up to look at him.

His long absence had softened him; he felt a little queasy but he managed to push the feeling out of his mind by focusing his attention on the captain. In a way, whenever he was faced with particularly gruesome scenes, he wished he was back at the lab. Things had seemed so much simpler there. There were no faces to the evidence. Samples weren't real people. This was so much more personal. He was seeing the last moments of someone's life and usually they weren't the best last moments. Greg always felt as if he had invaded something private.

"Three in total. Two dead, one in the hospital." Brass replied, pulling out a small notepad. "You've got this guy in here, and the woman in the kitchen."

"There was a survivor?" Greg asked incredulously. Grissom had said triple homicide.

"Yeah, the paramedics took the girl in but she didn't look in good way. I doubt she'll make it."

"Where did the medics find her?"

"Just inside the master bedroom. It's like a blood bath in there. How she isn't dead is nothing short of a miracle." Brass muttered.

Greg nodded, his eyes moving to the kitchen. For the first time since arriving on the scene he noticed a foot sticking out from behind the counter and although he could not see the rest of the body he knew from the size of her foot it was a woman.

"Jesus, it's a mess in there."

Greg glanced up as Nick appeared from the nearest bedroom and wandered over to join them, ripping his gloves off. The younger CSI took the opportunity to study him. The fact that even he looked a little pale made Greg feel somewhat better. It was normal to be effected by these things. That Nick was obviously effected made it seem easier to deal with.

"Any ideas what you're looking at Greg?" Nick asked pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

"Male, I'd say he's no older than thirty, maybe more around the mid-twenties, multiple GSW to his back…" He trailed off, studying the scene momentarily. Blood pools were scored into the wooden floor starting from the bedroom and ending near the body. "By the blood across the room I would guess someone – him or probably more than likely the girl, judging from where she was found – was running towards the bedroom?"

"You would guess?" Nick asked somewhat amused.

"I don't want to commit yet until I've seen the rest of the scene." He protested.

"Coward." Nick grinned at him before glancing down at the body. "I'd say you were right though judging by the blood splatters. I reckon the girl tried to run and was finally caught up with in the bedroom."

Greg wanted to smile at this but he kept his face impassive. He thought he might be rusty after his long absence but he had slotted right back into it. He knew he had a sharp mind for this but he still lacked confidence in his own abilities at times. He didn't want to screw up. It was always good knowing that he was on the right track.

"What else?" Nick pressed, glancing around himself. Greg moved from the body and slowly walked the path from the victim to the bedroom. His eye caught something and he squatted down to get a closer look at it.

"Pass me my case." Greg said more demanding than he had meant to as he took his camera and snapped a couple of shots.

"Yes boss." Nick muttered with a small smirk. "You wanna just take this entire investigation? I'll go home and get some shut eye." He glanced at his watch. "Better yet hit a few clubs, it's only early and Vegas doesn't sleep!"

Greg gave him a level stare before taking the case off him and pulling out what he needed. Carefully he adjusted his tweezers and picked up what had caught his eye, turning it to study it.

"What have you found?" Nick asked leaning over him in a way that would have made him nervous had it been anyone else. His friendship with Nick helped him feel comfortable in his role. It was easier for him to venture at theories with him. Nick never made him feel under pressure in the same way he did when he was shadowing Sara or Grissom.

"It looks like…" Greg paused glancing up at Nick. "A piece of tooth…?"

Nick gently turned the victims head and noticed a heavy purple contusion forming on his cheek. "So our guy was smacked before or after being shot..."

"It could be the girl's." Greg countered.

"Maybe… Bag it up and see what else you can get from the scene. Prints, blood, fibres… work it all up."

"Yeah, yeah." He said rolling his eyes slightly, "I know what to do."

"Any idea who the vics are?" Nick asked, turning to Brass who flicked absently through his note pad.

"The condo is rented to a Miss Amelia Wallace who, from the descriptions given to us by the neighbour, is the woman in the kitchen. The other two are unknown."

"They didn't have any ID or anything on them?" Greg questioned turning his attention from the body he was working on. Brass shook his head. "Maybe a robbery?" He ventured.

"I though that," Brass said, "but there's no evidence of breaking and entering, and nothing seems to have been removed from the scene either. If it was a robbery, whoever did it had a key."

"Maybe jealous love affair…" Nick pondered looking at the naked body on the floor before him. "Passion seems to do the strangest things to people."

"Talking from personal experience?" Greg asked, not glancing up from what he was doing.

"You want to be back in the lab?" Nick replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No. Do you want to do the monkey work yourself?"

"I'll pass. Thanks."

"I thought you might see it that way." Greg muttered as he pulled a couple of bloodied prints off the edge of the sofa.

"Do you two want a moment alone to discuss your domestic issues?"

Greg half turned as Sara Sidle joined them. Garbed in her black CSI vest she had her arms crossed over her chest. A slight flicker of her lips told Greg that she found the situation somewhat humorous.

"Nah, we're good." Nick said, patting Greg on the shoulder before turning his attention to her. "You want to work the vic in the kitchen?"

"Sure." Sara said following after Nick.

Shaking his head slightly, Greg watched them for a moment before refocusing his attention on his work. His mind was going over the details of the crime and trying to sort out what had happened here. The whole thing seemed wrong.

He had largely ruled out a breaking and entering that had gone wrong for several different reasons. There no sign of a forced entry and nothing seemed to have been stolen. The TV was still in-situ, as was a very expensive looking stereo, and there was a cell phone on the coffee table. Unless the perp was the world's worst burglar it seemed unlikely that this was a robbery.

He glanced over to the kitchen and saw a bowl of food on the counter, and pursed his lips pensively. She had come in here to eat, fully clothed. Greg wondered how she fitted into this whole thing but drew a blank. Had she simply been sat in the kitchen whilst the other two victims were making nice in the bedroom?

For the life of him he couldn't figure out why the second woman was fully clothed in the kitchen eating dinner. What had she been doing here? Unless she had been involved in the affair somehow…? That was a chat show in itself.

He sighed. Something didn't sit right with this but whatever it was Greg couldn't put his finger on it. He hoped the evidence would provide them with a better insight.

As he glanced around the room something caught his eye. Rising to his feet he walked purposely over to the edge of the couch and saw a smear of blood on the navy blue fabric. He took a snap of it before turning to his case. As he did so he noticed it was sat on top of a large dark coloured rug. On closer inspection he realised that there were round indentation in the pile. Frowning deeply he glanced over his shoulder.

"Brass? Did your guys or the medics move anything when they arrived on scene?"

"No. why?"

Nick and Sara had both joined him.

"What have you got?" Nick asked.

"Indentations in the rug." Greg pointed to the two marks at either end. Raising his brow, Nick turned to him.

"The sofa wasn't always in this position."

"Nope. It's been moved."

Once the scene had been fully processed and documented they returned to the crime lab. Nick disappeared off to trace whilst Greg wandered down to the DNA labs. Handing over his evidence to Mia he aimlessly made his way back to the break room. He felt exhausted. The crime scene was still making its way around the vaults of his mind like a bad dream he couldn't wake up from. In the kitchen the woman, Amelia Wallace, had been sprawled on her back, her blond hair fanned out of the floor, matted with her own blood. She had received multiple gun wounds to her stomach, chest and neck. Greg couldn't get the image of her blood soaked clothes out of his thoughts, her wide eyes fearfully staring. The last thing she had seen had been her attacker. No wonder she looked so haunted.

None of it made sense however. Why had the girl in the bedroom been stabbed and the man and other woman shot? It seemed odd that the assailant had changed weapons half way through the attack. It didn't add up. Still pondering over the case he almost walked head first into someone and quickly apologised.

"Are you sure its really safe for you to be out in the field if you cant even do something so simple as walking? Maybe you should have just stayed in the lab."

Slightly annoyed at Adrienne's tone, Greg managed to shrug it off at the last moment. He had never had much affinity for her but he didn't want to lose his train of thought. He felt like he might be onto something but irritatingly it sat just out of reach.

"It's not really that complicated. One foot in front of the other... I'll demonstrate if you want me to."

She scowled at him but didn't say anything further before walking off. Greg watched her go for a moment before turning and colliding with Nick.

"Sorry." Greg responded immediately. He had never apologised so much in such a short space of time although he was sincerely sorry for walking into Nick. The CSI merely shrugged.

"No worries. You put the evidence in?"

"Yeah." He muttered. Nick glanced over his shoulder at Adrienne's retreating back.

"Problems?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Anything new developed?"

"Not yet. The vic's still in surgery but the Docs have promised to let us know as soon as she's out. Prognosis is a little sketchy though, she was badly injured. Brass has got his guys out talking to the neighbours at the moment, trying to get an ID on her and Doc Robbins is getting the first autopsy underway. You want to help process?"

Greg wanted to say no. He had seen more than he cared to that night already but Nick was looking expectantly at him. He didn't want to seem like he wasn't coping in front of his colleagues and after a brief moment of deliberation he relented.

"Hey, Nick, Greg?" They both turned as Sara jogged down the corridor to catch up to them.

"What's up Sara?" Nick asked.

"Brass pulled some footage from the security cameras in the building. Wanna take a look?"

Greg almost sighed with relief as Nick nodded, patting him on the back. "Well there's always next time kiddo."

Making their way into the AV room they were greeted by Archie Johnson. He glanced up from the TV screen he was hovering over and offered them a seat. Nick and Sara both took one, pulling them closer to the monitors but Greg stood behind them. He felt too agitated to sit. Archie took the tape from Sara and pushed it into the player before dimming the lights.

"You got any popcorn?" Greg asked absently.

"Nah man. All I got is a couple of mouldy sandwiches." Archie replied apologetically.

"I think I'll pass."

"They don't let us lab techs out much." He said by way of explanation. "You should remember that, Greg."

"Pay attention." Sara muttered, half-heartedly berating him.

"Sorry." Greg turned to the monitor but not before catching a grin from Nick.

The tapes seemed to go on forever and after about ten minutes of watching the footage the door opened. Nick leaned forward and paused it just as Grissom stuck his head in.

"Anything interesting turn up yet?" He asked.

"Not yet but the day's still young." Sara replied.

"It stopped being day three hours ago." Nick corrected her. Grissom ignored the exchange and rubbed a hand over his chin.

"Well this doesn't need the three of you. Greg, you and Archie finish up here. Sara, I want you and Nick to head back up to the scene. Brass' guys found the murder weapon."

"They found the gun?" Sara asked.

"No. They found the knife."

"I don't understand." Greg spoke before he realised he had. He blushed slightly catching Grissom's expression.

"Don't understand what?"

"The two weapons. Why use a gun and a knife?"

Grissom sighed. "Most likely the attacker came in and found our two victims in the kitchen. Dr Robbins recovered five bullets from the pair of them: two in the woman, three in the guy. At that point I would think our Jane Doe made her presence known to our suspect and realising he had no bullets left he picked up the nearest object."

"A kitchen knife." Greg concluded, recalling the knife rack on the counter. It was close to where to the two victims were found. The attacker had probably dragged one out on the way to the bedroom. "So presumably he killed Jane Doe last."

"Only the evidence will tell." Grissom responded with a whimsical smile.

"Stabbing is a fairly personal affair. It kind of suggests the suspect was intimate with the victim." Greg added.

"Maybe not," Sara scratched absently at her cheek. "If the perp was out of ammo then the knife was probably the only option available. I'm guessing he wouldn't want Jane Doe to raise the alarm and so he silenced her. Quickly."

Greg took the information in with a small nod of his head. He had learnt all the theory behind these types of crimes but it always amazed him at how little he knew compared to his colleagues. They each had a keen mind for puzzling these things out. Greg hoped in time he would reach their level of expertise but for some reason his head seemed to be stuck in the lab. Give him a DNA strand and he could unravel it in seconds. Re-enactment was something else altogether.

"Well the print I found on the side of the sofa could belong to him."

"He?" Grissom asked. "You think our suspect is male?"

"Force of habit." Greg muttered apologetically. "What I don't understand is how the assailant managed to get five rounds into two people before Jane Doe did anything."

"You hear a gun going off in the next room, would you rush in?" Sara tilted her head to one side.

"Probably. But then again I'm not very smart." Greg replied.

"Either way," Grissom continued as if neither of them had spoken. "We need to find out what the happened to these people and fast. When you get the knife back I want a full blood comparison done and see if you can lift any prints off the blade."

"Sure thing Griss." Nick said, getting to his feet as Grissom left the room.

"You ok Greg?" Sara asked suddenly, dragging the young man out of his thoughts. He snapped his head up and realised they were all studying him.

"I don't know…" Greg muttered. "There's something about this case that I can't put my finger on."

It seemed familiar somehow but something felt really wrong about the whole thing. Greg wondered if sleep deprivation was causing him to lose his sanity but he felt like he should know more about this than he did. He almost scowled with frustration.

"Well Einstein," Nick said with a grin, "when you figure it out, be sure to let one of us know before Grissom. We can't have the monkey taking all the credit!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

It took Greg and Archie a full hour and a half to review all the CCTV footage but nothing turned up. It was with some frustration that Greg finally realised that the camera on the corridor outside the Wallace condo was only recording for ten minutes at a time. They saw Amelia Wallace enter her apartment but then the angle changed to what appeared to be a similar corridor on the next floor up. He wondered what the point of having security cameras was if they only took snap shots. Scowling he made his way down to DNA lab to see if they had found anything but was accosted by Grissom on the way.

"You finished with the tapes?"

"Yeah," Greg resisted the urge to snap, _waste of time_ and instead muttered: "The cameras are on some kind of timer. They record in slots and unfortunately for us we ran out of slot time."

Grissom nodded.

"Did you expect it to be that easy?"

"Huh?"

"Did you expect to watch the tape and see your suspect entering?"

Greg mulled this over momentarily before shaking his head. "No. I guess not. I just… hoped it would be easy."

Grissom gave him a small patient smile.

"When Sara and Nick get back with the knife I want you to run the DNA on it."

"Sure." Greg replied as Grissom hurried off up the corridor.

Continuing on to his initial destination, Greg wandered into the DNA lab. Mia Dickerson was supposed to be on shift tonight but when Greg entered he found the blonde haired Emily Wade glued to the scope. Coughing a little to warn her of his presence – he didn't want to sneak up on her – Emily eventually glanced up from what she was studying.

"Just stick it on the pile," She waved negligently at the 'In-Tray' that was over flowing on the end of the desk before lowering her eyes back to the scope. "I'll get to it as soon as I can."

"I didn't think you were on tonight."

"I'm not supposed to be." Emily replied, not looking up from what she was doing. "Mia's got the flu and Wendy's covering days and swing." Her tone was laced with irritation. "I'm absolutely slammed and all I've got is you guys coming into my lab and stomping your feet for results so please don't ask me when it will be ready because I really don't know right now."

"I wasn't going to ask you." Greg picked up a sample from the bottom of the pile. Emily looked up from the scope and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you. If you want me to that is. I don't really have much to do till Sara and Nick get back so I was going to go and look over some notes but you look like you need me more."

Sighing with relief, she flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He said, pulling on a pair of gloves before opening the evidence bag. "But just remember this next time I come in here stomping my feet for results."

She tutted loudly and rolled her eyes. "Yes Greg, I'll kiss your ass for the next couple of weeks."

He raised his brow and smirked as he located a pair of tweezers, pulling the strand of hair onto the slide. "That almost sounds like a proposition."

She snapped her head up to him and gave him an arched glare. "Greg Sanders are you… trying to flirt with me? Trying being the word since that was the worst come on I've ever heard."

"Hey, if I unleashed the Sanders love machine, you would know about it."

Ok, Casanova rein it in. You're not helping me, you're distracting me."

"Sorry." He grinned. "I'll just get on with this… in silence. You wont even know I'm here."

She scowled at him. "Greg, you're babbling. Not only are you babbling but you're being irritating along with it."

Still grinning he focused his attention on the scope. He had managed to work through three samples before Sara stuck her head around the door of the DNA lab.

"Present for you." Greg glanced up as she handed him a couple of small evidence bags and a large clear bag containing a long bladed kitchen knife.

"And it's not even my birthday!" He whistled under his breath. "That is a big assed blade."

Sara lifted it to study it before handing it to him. "And now it's your big assed blade."

"Why thank you. But you know chocolates are my preferred choice of gift."

"I'll remember that for next time." She assured him. He smiled faintly, pulling it out of the bag.

"Has Jacqui run this for prints already?"

"No."

He shifted his gaze from the weapon to her. "So you want me to do all the leg work?"

"Do you have anything better to do?" She asked earning a sigh from him.

"No." He admitted reluctantly. "Any word on the vic in the hospital?"

"Our Jane Doe turned out to be a nineteen year old Jennifer Holmes. She's a student at the university. She's just got out of surgery so I'm going to head up now and see what I can process from her."

"If she's been dragged all around the hospital I doubt there's going to be much trace evidence left on her." Greg grunted.

"Much is better than nothing." Sara replied but there was a touch of irritation in her voice. She clearly wasn't any happier than Greg was with the situation. The girl could have vital evidence on her and with half the hospital handling her cross contamination was a certainty.

"Don't take too long on that knife, Greg. We need results ASAP." She had already turned and was out of the double doors before he had a chance to protest.

"Do we all do that?" He demanded frustrated.

Emily stifled a laugh. "What? The feet stomping thing? Yes, you all do it. Some more than others."

"Do I do that?" He asked curiously. She shrugged.

"If you have to ask…" She replied mischievously.

He scowled at her but she wouldn't tell him anything more. Greg spent the next couple of hours working on the knife. Sara appeared at about three o'clock and handed him the evidence she had managed to collect from the student. It wasn't much but it was enough to go on. It was almost five am by the time he had finished.

The results printed and in his hand, he said goodbye to Emily and headed off to find Nick and Sara. It took him several minutes to locate them but eventually found them in the conference room, files strewn across the table, deep in conversation.

"How good am I?" Greg asked with a smirk.

"Is there a right answer to that question?" Nick inquired.

"What have you found?" Sara spoke up as Greg moved into the room, taking a seat opposite them.

"Well I found blood and skin epithelial on the knife but when I ran them through CODIS I didn't get anything."

"And this makes you great because?"

"I didn't say I was great, I said I was good. Pay attention. And I'm getting to it."

"Get there quicker." Nick levelled at him.

"I've spent the whole evening watching security surveillance and then the rest of it carefully picking a knife apart. I only have one job and that's to tell you what I've found. So please, humour me."

They both exchanged glances but remained silent. Greg pulled the report out, a smile sitting on his lips.

"So anyway, as I was saying. I didn't get anything through CODIS but I did match the skin on the blade to our female victim, which isn't really that surprising since she was pretty much skewered with it. The blood is hers as well. The interesting part, however, is that I matched some of the skin epithelial to our mystery man, who is no longer a mystery since I managed to get an ID on him. His name's John Ellis, he's twenty-six and he's a lecturer at UNLV."

"What does he teach?" Nick inquired.

"English."

"The same course Jennifer Holmes is majoring in." Sara noted with a flick of her brow.

Greg continued, still grinning. "This is where the plot REALLY thickens. I found a couple of partial prints on the handle. Jacqui matched one set to Jennifer Holmes and other came back as…" He tapped his fingers on the desk making a drum roll. "John Ellis."

"With the skin and prints I'd say that's a pretty good case for him having hold of that knife at some point." Sara mused.

"So she tries to grab the knife as he attacks her." Nick said.

"You think he stabbed her?" Greg interjected.

"The alternative is that she stabbed herself."

"So how did he get shot? Did he do that himself?" Sara countered.

The three of them fell silent for a moment.

"Maybe we're looking at this all wrong." Greg said finally.

"How do you mean?" Nick asked.

"Well two were shot, one stabbed but two of the victims DNA is on the knife…it kind of feels like an inside job to me."

"What do you think happened then?" Sara asked.

"I have a theory." He replied impishly. "I'm reserving judgement till I know how Amelia Wallace fits into all of this."

"So far we haven't turned up much about how she's linked to the other two victims. Brass said she works for an insurance brokers. There's nothing to connect her to the university at all."

"So why were they in her apartment?"

"Find the answer to that, and we find the killer." Nick concluded.

Just after eight o'clock in the morning Nick headed up to the university whilst Greg and Sara headed uptown to the brokers were Amelia Wallace worked. They hoped they would be able to get enough information from her co-workers to discover a link between the three victims and shed some light on what had happened.

The office was fairly typical. There were rows of small cubicles furnished with a desk, computer and phone. An operator occupied each booth, taking calls. At each end of the room was a water cooler and scattered about were potted plants. Greg surmised it was one of those attempts by the bosses to keep the office looking nice. Happy employees worked harder, although Greg couldn't fathom out how a couple of plants helped with that. After a few moments a smartly dressed man walked over and greeted them both, signalling for them to follow him into an office just off the main room.

The office was big enough to hold a desk and a couple of book shelves. There was a large filing cabinet behind the door and various scenic landscapes were scattered on the walls. Greg roved his eyes around, noticing two plants on the window sill and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm Ted Rotherham. I'm the manager here. How can I help you?"

"I'm Sara Sidle and this is Greg Sanders, we're with the Las Vegas crime lab." Sara said taking the seat Mr Rotherham offered. "We just have a few questions about one of your employees."

"I'll help if I can." He replied compliantly.

"You have an Amelia Wallace who works for you." Sara began.

"Yes. She's been here for almost six years now. Never missed a days work until this morning. Has something happened to her?" He asked, glancing between the two of them.

"I'm sorry, she's dead." Sara told him. He blinked.

"Dead?" Ted Rotherham brought his hand up to cover his mouth, his eyes saddened. "Jesus. How?"

"I'm afraid we can't disclose that at the moment." Sara informed him. "But any information you have will help us in our investigation."

"Of course. Of course." He muttered somewhat distracted. Greg finally sank down in the vacant chair next to Sara.

"Did Amelia ever talk about any relationships she was having?" He questioned.

Ted Rotherham frowned. "You mean romantically?"

"Yes. Was she involved with anyone?"

"She never really talked to me about that sort of thing. I'm her boss."

"Did you hear her talking around the office?" Sara asked. "Maybe just in passing."

"If she told anyone I'm guessing it was Suzie Davenport – she's the team leader on customer services. They're friends." He shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't help you. I've got over five hundred employees on my pay roll. I hardly have time to eat most days, let alone converse."

"Do you think we could talk to Suzie?".

"Sure." He picked his phone up and dialled a few numbers. "Suzie? It's Ted. Would you just pop into my office for a moment? Thanks."

After a minute the door opened and a small brunette woman stepped in, closing the door behind her. She took Greg and Sara in with a brief glance before focusing her attention on her boss.

"You wanted to see me."

"This is Greg Sanders and Sara Sidle from the crime lab. They want to ask you a few questions about Amelia."

"Is she ok?"

"I'm very sorry but Amelia died last night." Sara said gently.

Suzie's lip trembled a little and tears spilt freely down her cheeks. "Oh my god." Was all she managed to mutter under her breath. Greg gave her a sympathetic look, offering her the seat he had just occupied. She sank into it, muttering a thank you before Greg softly asked her if she knew anything about John Ellis. Suzie brushed the tears off her face and nodded.

"They were dating. Had been for about six months."

"Was it serious between them?" Sara asked.

"Serious enough for them to be looking into moving in together." Suzie murmured between sobs. "I can't believe she's dead."

"I know this is hard," Greg said sensitively, "but did she ever mention someone called Jennifer Holmes?"

She shook her head, sniffling. "Not that I recall."

"Thank you."

Having all the information they needed, they left the office and walked slowly back to the denali. Sara got into the drivers side while Greg slipped into the passenger seat.

"What do you think?" She asked him.

"Six months is way too soon to move in with someone."

"I mean about the case."

"I'm not sure yet. All we know is that John Ellis was Jennifer's teacher. Amelia and John were dating. Both John and Amelia were shot whilst Jennifer was stabbed. That brings us back to the question of why was Jennifer at Amelia's apartment?"

"Extra tuition?"

"Maybe Nick's trip to the university will give us more to go on."

"But you have a theory."

"Of course."

"Care to share?"

"Not yet."

"You know, for someone who generally likes to run his mouth off, you're being awfully closed mouthed about this whole thing."

"I'm a mystery." He said with a shrug.

When they arrived back at the lab they located Nick in the trace lab. Sara relayed what they had found out from Suzie Davenport and then he told them what he had discovered at the university. Jennifer's room mate, after a lot of coercing, had admitted that Jennifer and John had been having a secret affair. The information put a lot of things in perspective.

"Ok, so Jennifer learns that Amelia and John are looking to move in together," Greg muttered, "feeling pushed out she confronts Amelia, finding John there. She levels two rounds into Amelia, then another three into John. But maybe John doesn't go down straight away; he grabs a knife off the side. There's a struggle. Jennifer gets stabbed. John finally collapses in the living room, and Jennifer drags herself off into the bedroom, hence the blood splatter across the floor."

Nick and Sara exchanged glances.

"I hate to say this but I think he's right." Nick conceded.

Greg grinned. "Does this mean I get a prize?"

"I'll give you a cookie."

"Write it up and give it to Grissom." Sara said getting to her feet. "I'll tell Brass what we've found. If Jennifer ever wakes up she's going to spend a long assed time in jail."

"Are you heading home?" Nick said mid yawn.

"Yep. Shift finished over three hours ago and all I want to do is sleep."

"Do we even get paid for over time anymore?" Greg asked absently, running his fingers through his hair.

"God knows." Nick answered. "Are you on tonight?"

"After four weeks leave the next time I'll be off is when I'm dead." He grumbled.

Nick gave him a level glare. "That's not even funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be." He sighed.

"Don't stay all day. Make sure you go home at some point."

"Will do."

Once he had written his report, and left it on Grissom's desk for him to read over, Greg headed to the parking garage and got into his car. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed and sleep.

He barely remembered the drive to his apartment and was surprised to find he had pulled up outside. Getting out of the car, he grabbed his rucksack and jacket and dragged himself across the driveway.

Pushing his key into the door he bent down and picked up the mail on his mat before shutting it behind him. Idly he flicked through. Two bills, some junk mail… it was all stuff that would wait for later. Dropping it on the coffee table he headed into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge.

His first shift had been good, he reflected. The case had been solved quickly and efficiently. Greg was pleased with himself. He had been worried that he would be out of touch but last night had proven otherwise. As he moved into the living room he stopped, frowning deeply. Something seemed wrong. Sweeping his eyes around he couldn't quite place what it was. Everything appeared to be were he had left it but there was…

His heart pounded painfully in his chest as the realisation set in. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. His initial reaction was to get out of his apartment and call Brass… to call anyone but he couldn't move. He had several pictures on his walls, some were art work, others photographs of his family and friends. Every single one of them was hanging the wrong way round. Hesitantly he moved into the hallway and saw the same thing.

He glanced at his bedroom door and felt a chill run up his spine. Panicking, he wondered what he would find. He didn't think he could handle a reply of the dead doll and the message on his machine had implied next time would be worse. His blood was thumping in his ears. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. He had never been so scared. He closed his eyes and reached for the door handle. It felt cold beneath his hand. Slowly he turned it but then stopped. He didn't want to go in there. He wasn't sure he could face whatever lay in the room.

Stepping back he paused. He didn't want to be afraid. This was his home. He would not be forced out of it by someone playing with his mind. Quietly he moved to the sideboard and grabbed the heaviest object he could find on it; a large marble sculpture. With a deep breath he pushed the door open and hesitantly moved into the bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last few chapters. As promised, here is the next part. This chapter was particularly difficult to write and to be honest I have written five different openings for this scene. I think this one is the better however. ENJOY!

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**Chapter Twelve. **

The scene was chaos. Two patrol cars were parked up, the blue and red lights flashing and one of the lab's denali's was pulled off to one side. There were several uniformed officers loitering around, and thick yellow police tape had been pulled around the area. As Nick drove his car onto the driveway he got out quickly, grabbing his case.

Approaching the front door a police officer asked him for ID. He flashed his badge and was allowed to enter. Worse case scenarios ran through his head, judging by what had happened last time, but as he stepped into the living room he was hit by a wave of normality.

Frowning as he glanced around he waited for Sofia Curtis to approach him. Her blonde hair was unbound, draping across her shoulders and at her waist she wore a pistol, holstered securely.

"Grissom and Warrick are in the bedroom." She said with no prelude. Nick nodded, looking over his shoulder.

"Where's Greg?"

"He's ok, Nick. Come on, I'll show you the scene." She signalled for him to follow her.

Leading him through the hallway he took a deep breath before stepping into the bedroom. As his eyes hit the far wall he stopped dead in his tracks.

Covering the area where _murderer_ had previously been written, the magnolia wall was now a collage of photographs. There must have been hundreds of them. Moving closer he let his eyes rove over them. They were all pictures of Greg. There were images of him getting out of his car outside his apartment, of him sat in the diner, even of him with some people that Nick didn't recognize. They were snapshots of his entire life.

A cold shiver ran electrically through his body as he raised his eyes to the top of the wall. Written in red paint, the word _SOON_ was splattered in block capitals. It was beyond freaky. Shuddering, Nick turned to Grissom and Warrick who were stood behind him.

"Weird huh?" Warrick muttered.

"You can say that again." Nick exhaled deeply, his eyes still on the wall. After a moment he ripped his eyes from it. "Where is Greg?"

"The lab." Grissom answered. Nick nodded. He understood why Grissom had sent him away from this but he wished he had had a chance to talk to him. He wanted to make sure he was ok.

"So what happened?" He said finally.

"Greg came home at around eleven thirty this morning. Found this." Warrick dropped his hands to his hips. "All the frames in the house have been moved."

"Moved?" Nick asked with a frown.

"Hung upside down."

Nick raised his brow. "Why?"

"To get his attention." Grissom concluded.

"Didn't this psycho do that with the doll?"

Grissom merely arched his brow. Sofia sighed.

"You guys be ok here?" she asked. "We've got a 419 on the other side of town."

"Yes. We'll be fine." Grissom said. "Thank you Sofia."

She smiled at him before leaving. Nick took a moment to study the room. Other than the wall and the picture frames all being the upside down everything else seemed to be in place.

"Have you got any prints? Trace? Fibres?" Nick inquired.

"We got here about two minutes before you did." Warrick answered.

"Someone really has got a grudge against Greg." Nick said softly, his attention moving back to the photographs.

"You're telling me."

"Let's get to work." Grissom ordered, his mouth curling a little at the corners. He was as disturbed by the entire situation as everyone else was.

Nick pulled out his flashlight and began on the wall. He didn't imagine they would find any evidence; last time they hadn't found even so much as a trace of the suspect. This guy was good at cleaning up after himself.

"I don't get this." Warrick spoke after a moment.

"I don't think we're supposed to get it." Nick muttered.

"Why this though? I mean the doll was extreme. This is… well it's still up there with the weird but its not… I don't know. It just seems like an anti-climax."

Both Nick and Grissom stopped what they were doing to look at him.

"It's all part of the game." Grissom said. When both Nick and Warrick looked bemused he continued to explain. "It's like a volcano."

"Explosive?" Nick asked baffled by the analogy.

"Not at first. The initial warning sign is a big thing. Smoke cloud, lava storms, rivers boiling. After that you usually get a series of mini-tremors, but nothing huge until the actual eruption."

"The calm before the storm?"

Grissom nodded but it was Warrick who spoke.

"So what? We're waiting for the eruption?"

"_Soon_ implies that." Grissom answered.

"This sucks. I'm sick of this punk." Nick growled. "What the hell is his issue with Greg?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Nick."

"But we've got nothing, Griss! No prints, no treads. Not even a tangible shred of DNA. It's like this just… appeared from thin air."

"Our suspect certainly knows what he's doing."

"I mean, how the hell did he get in?" Nick continued as if there had been no interruption. "Greg changed his locks like a week ago."

"There was no sign of entry through the back, front or any of the windows." Warrick mused.

"This doesn't add up!"

Nick was frustrated. It was his job to solve crimes. He spent every day doing just that and yet when his friend needed him he could pull anything out of the hat. He dragged his hand across his eyes, pacing a little.

"This is a personal attack on Greg. Someone is screwing with his head and we've got jack. You know, this is only going to worse. What if the next call we get is to say Greg's dead?" He exhaled deeply, trying to vent some of his anger. "We've got to figure this out and fast."

"We will, buddy." Warrick dropped a hand onto his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "We will. We all want Greg safe too, ok?"

"I know this case is difficult," Grissom spoke quietly, "but we all need to stay focused. If you can't be objective-"

"I can be objective." Nick snapped, not liking what Grissom was implying. "I just want to catch this freak."

"Then I suggest you continue to process." Grissom levelled at him.

Nick seized his kit and dragged out a new memory card, thrusting it into his camera. In truth he wasn't angry at Grissom he just felt helpless. He had found out first hand what happened when suspects sought revenge on CSIs. His encounter had been horrific. He hoped Greg would never have to suffer the same thing he had and the only way to prevent that was to find this guy.

Starting at one end of the wall he began take snap shots of each section. He had taken at least five pictures when he stopped and leaned in for a closer look. He closed his eyes.

"God." Nick muttered. "There's photographs of him sleeping. In his own bed."

He felt Warrick and Grissom move in behind him to look.

"The suspect has been in his house whilst he was here?" Warrick sounded disturbed.

"Yeah, looks that way. This guy is toying with us." Nick snarled.

"The question is," Grissom said, pulling his glasses off, "how did he take these pictures without waking Greg up."

* * *

Greg rubbed his hands together and took a sip on the coffee in front of him. By now, everyone in the lab knew what had happened at his apartment and he couldn't stand their sympathetic expressions. He had been brought into Grissom's office to give him some privacy.

They all - intentionally or not - made him feel like a victim, something he swore he would never be. He realised they would never view him otherwise. He was nothing more than a case number now. He sighed. Three times in just over a month he had become part of a crime scene. It was beginning to wear thin.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." He glanced up as Adrienne West entered and sighed. She was the last person he wanted here. Thankfully Captain Brass was just behind him.

"How are you doing, Greg?" Brass asked, leaning against the edge of Grissom's desk.

"I'm… ok." He relented finally, sick to death of hearing that.

"All right," Brass gave him a faint smile. "I just need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Sure."

Brass asked him about any enemies he might have, or anyone he might have annoyed in the past. Greg had answered similar questions to these the last time but there was an almost desperate undertone to Brass. They had nothing and they were hoping something Greg said might turn up a suspect. Greg wished he could be more helpful but he honestly had no idea who could be doing this to him. Leaning back in his seat he stared at the ceiling, before momentarily closing his eyes.

"Do you need a minute?" Brass asked him.

"I just want this guy found."

"We're doing our best."

"I know." Greg muttered, looking at him. "Thank you."

"I'll keep you updated."

Greg nodded as Brass departed. Adrienne studied him in silence for a minute.

"Greg, um, I need some of your hair." Adrienne spoke quietly.

"For DNA? Why?"

She glanced away before looking back at him. "Grissom requested it."

Puzzled, Greg frowned at her. "I don't understand. Am I… am I a suspect or something?"

"No, no. of course not. It's just procedure."

He felt almost violated by her request. It was usually him asking criminals for their DNA so they could charge them. It was strange to hear someone requesting it from him.

"Sure." He said after a brief pause. "Take what you need."

She rose and moved over to him, first swabbing the inside of his mouth and then pulling a hair from his head. As she turned to do his prints he raised a hand.

"My prints should be on IAFIS already. Every employee at lab has to have them taken when they first start here."

She gave him a thin smile but her expression said she wanted them anyway. "I know."

Sighing Greg allowed her to finger print him. "Is the team back yet?" Greg inquired, wiping his fingers on the piece of tissue paper she had just handed him.

"Not as far as I know."

"Am I allowed to leave Grissom's office?"

"You're not under arrest Greg." She told him patiently. "I would suggest you don't leave the lab however. For your own safety."

Grunting under his breath he got to his feet and left the room. The whole proceedings had felt like a personal attack, like she almost suspected him of staging the entire thing. It was ludicrous.

Unsure of where he was going he wandered the corridors but after the first couple of stares he found himself slinking into the locker room just to get away from their pitying expressions. They had already labelled him 'Victim'. It irked him.

"Hey, Greg."

Emily was stood at her locker. She half turned to him and gave him a lopsided smile.

"I thought you were on grave yard." He sank onto the bench.

"I am… was." She corrected herself. "You know how this place is. Sometimes I wish I would turn my cell off."

"You're here because of me." It wasn't a question.

"Don't flatter yourself." She tried to create levity but Greg was too exhausted to take the bait. After a brief silence she continued. "I'm going to grab some coffee. I figure since I've been dragged in seven hours early I'm owed at least a ten minute break. Do you want to join me?"

Not really having anything else to do he nodded and followed her up to the break room. At least Emily didn't look at him as a victim. It made a refreshing change. Thankfully, they found the room empty. He sank into a chair whilst she headed over to the kettle, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard. His head was aching. All he wanted was to get back to his normal life but it was as if every step he took forward something – or someone – dragged him six steps back. After a couple of minutes, Emily wandered over, placing the mugs on the table, and sank down beside him, pushing one towards him.

"I know you're probably sick of hearing this but how are you doing?"

"I don't know." He said after a moment. "How am I supposed to be doing?"

She shrugged, wincing at his tone. "I think it's ok for you to be freaked out by all of this. You don't have to put such a brave face on it."

He glanced up at her. "I just want it to stop."

"It will." She sighed. "This is just a small piece of your life Greg. I know it seems like the end of the world right now but when it's all over and we catch this guy you'll look back and wonder why you ever worried."

He gave her a small forced smile. "You sound like a shrink."

Laughing she brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "You can pay me for this session later."

He joined her for a moment before his mood turned somber again.

"It was just so weird seeing all those pictures of me." He closed his eyes. "It's like this guy has a shot of every moment of my life. It's bad enough he's been in my apartment but now it's like he's everywhere I go, following me, watching me."

Sighing, Emily placed her hand on his and for a moment they both locked eyes. She had beautiful, big blue irises and she smiled so softly at him that he felt as if everything could be ok again.

"Greg, I can't imagine how hard this must be for you but we're all here for you."

They both turned as the door opened and Nick stuck his head in. Emily pulled her hand away and sipped on her coffee but Greg felt his ears burning. He didn't know why he was embarrassed, they hadn't been doing anything, but even so he had to force himself to meet Nick's eyes.

"I've been looking for you."

"Sorry." Greg muttered. "Have you finished at the… at my apartment?"

"Yeah."

"Did you find anything?"

"A couple of prints but they're probably yours." He glanced at Emily before turning back to Greg. "Grissom wants to talk to you, in his office."

Greg rose reluctantly to his feet. If Adrienne was suspicious he wondered how Grissom was viewing all of this. Emily stopped him before he reached the door.

"Don't forget your coffee."

"Oh, thanks." He smiled taking the cup from her.

Once him and Nick were free of the room, the older CSI spoke. He didn't ask him if he was ok and to be honest Greg was glad. He was sick of answering that question.

"My guest room is still free if you want it." He said instead.

Greg nodded, grateful for the offer. He wasn't sure if he would take it but even so it made him feel better knowing it was there. "Thanks Nick."

Reaching Grissom's office Nick knocked once on the door before pushing it open. Stepping in together, the entomologist glanced up from the file he was flicking through and pulled his glasses off.

"Grissom." Greg spoke softly. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Take a seat."

He complied even though he would have preferred to stand. Grissom had a way of making him do whatever he wanted.

"Are you a particularly heavy sleeper?" Grissom asked, not bothering with the usual formalities.

"I don't know. I guess so. I've never really given it much thought."

"Do you take anything to help you sleep?"

"You mean like sedatives?" Grissom nodded. "No."

"Even after your attack?"

It was a loaded question or at least it felt that way. Grissom expected Greg to need help and although Greg had slept poorly after the event he had never resorted to drugs. He was a chemist. He knew the affects of using any sort of medication. It was easy enough to get hooked to these things.

"My doctor offered me ativan."

"Lorazepam?

"Yeah. It seemed a bit extreme all things considered, so I said no."

Grissom merely nodded, but his face remained impassive. "Are you on any other medication?"

"Apart from the occasional aspirin? No. Oh, and my inhaler." He added as an afterthought.

"You're asthmatic."

"Yes. I take a salbutamol spray. It's not a particularly strong dosage though." Did Grissom think he was on drugs? Amused by what was being implied, Greg made a joke. "Do you want a urine sample?"

Grissom stared at him for a moment before pulling a sample bottle out of his top drawer.

"Yes."

Blinking, Greg glanced between him and Nick. "What exactly am I being accused of here?"

"You're not being accused of anything, Greg." Nick assured him.

"It kind of feels like I am."

"The photographs on your wall…" Grissom began but Greg cut him off. He felt like they were personally attacking him. He wondered if they had recovered heroin or something from his apartment. Nothing else could explain this.

"I've never seen any of them before if that's what your wondering." Greg interjected immediately, thinking that Grissom wanted to know if they had been stolen from him or even if Greg had taken them himself.

"I didn't think you had." Grissom noted. "We found a couple of pictures of you… sleeping."

Greg went cold all over hearing that. It was the ultimate invasion of his privacy. "Of me sleeping?" There was a tone of incredulity in his voice that he couldn't shake. "Someone took pictures of me asleep?"

"I would appear so." Grissom confirmed, pushing a couple of clear bags at him.

Greg lowered his eyes and studied the photographs in the bag. It was definitely his apartment and he was definitely asleep. He couldn't help but shudder. Greg had tried to take that information in as best as he could but under the circumstances he couldn't shake the heavy feeling that had settled in his stomach. How had this even happened? No wonder they had asked him about his sleeping. He would have had to be unconscious not to wake up with someone flashing a camera in his face.

"That guy was in my apartment whilst I was asleep?" He repeated to no one imparticular.

No one spoke. They didn't have to. Their silence told him more than their words ever could.

"This just gets better and better." He mumbled under his breath.

"We're trying to figure out how he managed to get pictures of you without waking you up." Nick said.

"And you think I was drugged?"

He merely raised his brow. "That's what we're trying to figure out."

Pushing his fingers through his hair he suddenly recalled last week when he had lost forty minutes in the store parking lot. At the time he had put it down to stress but now he wasn't so sure. He had no explaination at all for where that time had gone. It would make sense if he was being drugged. He winced, wondering how far this maniac was willing to go to make his point.

"Greg?" Grissom studied him for a moment. Finally Greg sighed.

"I'll give you the sample."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen **

Sara arrived at the lab just after seven pm. She strode purposely up to the front desk and leaned over to the receptionist. Judy was talking animatedly on the telephone and for a moment Sara impatiently waited. After a minute passing she snapped, leaned over the counter and pressed the hold button. Judy glanced up at her, a look of irritation on her face.

"Ms Sidle, that was the DA!" She exclaimed.

"I don't care if it was the pope. Where's Greg?"

"Uh… last I saw of him he was in the break room."

Sara spun on her heel and headed up the corridor, ignoring the receptionists indignant splutterings. She didn't have time to play nice. She needed to see if he was ok. Up until an hour ago she had been oblivious to what was happening back at the lab. She had a friend up in the far north who owned a ranch there. On her rare nights off Sara would visit, ride the horses, they'd eat dinner and reminisce about the past. The only problem was that this place was in the middle of nowhere. Sara hadn't even realised there was a problem until she was on her way back and the signal for her cell phone had come back. After listening to her answer machine messages from Grissom and Nick she had put her foot down and made a three hour journey in less than two.

Reaching the break room she thrust the doors open but found it empty. Scowling at Judy's stupidity she turned and headed to the next place she thought he might be; the locker room but she found that empty also. More than a little frustrated it was as she passed the DNA lab that she saw his familiar frame. Backtracking she headed in.

Greg was sat on a stool, his back to the door, his head pillowed on his forearms. As she got closer to him she saw he had his eyes closed. He looked kind of cute asleep and she surmised it was probably because it was the only time he wasn't bouncing around like an excited puppy.

"You know," He muttered, his eyes still closed, "it's rude to watch people sleeping, Sara."

"How did you know I was here?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest as his eyes fluttered open.

"Your shoes." She glanced down at her feet. "You have a distinctive walk."

Not sure whether or not she should take affront at his comment she settled for merely rolling her eyes at him. Studying him for a moment she sucked on her lip before getting to the point. "I heard what happened."

Greg brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to flatten it. He looked exhausted. His eyes were lined with black smudges and his skin was a little paler than usual. He was also wearing the same clothes he had on last night.

"Yeah, I think it went around the lab in a memo or something."

She swept her eyes over his face. "You look tired."

"Thanks to my new 'friend' I haven't been to bed yet."

Noticing a band aid on the crook of his arm she frowned at him. "Did you have to go to hospital?"

"No. Why?"

"But you've given blood?"

Greg lowered his eyes to his arm. "Oh. _That_." He said pointedly. "Grissom's idea of a joke I think."

"He took blood from you?"

"And urine. Somewhere in the lab he's running around with half my bladder contents in a plastic cup." He grumbled. "I feel abused and even worse Adrienne has my hair and saliva."

Sara gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're in demand huh."

Grunting he flopped back onto the desk. "Yep. Just missing my swimmers."

She laughed despite his mood. "There's still time."

"Laugh at my violation." He practically whined. "I'm traumatised."

"Why did Grissom take your blood and urine?" She asked.

"He's sadistic." He offered as an explanation.

Giving him a level stare, she arched her brow at him. Scowling he shrugged. "Something about sending it off to tox."

"Why is he sending it to tox?"

"He thinks my crazy stalker is drugging me… or that I'm a secret heroin addict. I'm not sure which."

Blinking, it took her a moment to realise what he had said. "Grissom thinks you're being drugged?"

"It's just a theory. Probably a wrong theory at that. Apparently I slept through my stalker being in my bedroom and taking glamour shots of me snoozing. Grissom thinks the only way I could have possibly slept through that was if I was intoxicated."

"What do you think?" She asked carefully. He paused for such a long time that she didn't think he was going to speak again. Finally however he answered her.

"I lost time a week or so ago."

"What do you mean lost time?"

"I like… blacked out or something. I don't know. It was as if two minutes had passed but really it was forty minutes later."

"Has this happened before?"

He pressed his hands together and stared at them as if the held all the answers. "I don't know." He looked so lost. Sara almost wanted to reach her hand out to him and comfort him but instead she shoved them into her pockets.

"Have you had any other symptoms?"

"A killer headache a few days back but I put that down to stress." He paused. "My asthma started up again lately, which in itself is bizarre. I've been asymptomatic for the last five, six years. If I'm being given something that stimulates the respiratory tract that would explain it reoccurring." He frowned deeply. "It just seems a little far fetched. If I'm being drugged then how? It not like this guy can drop it into my food or whatever without me noticing."

"It depends on the substance. Not all drugs are ingested."

"Air con." He muttered blandly.

"It's a possibility. Do you have it in your apartment?"

"Everyone has air con." He pulled a face, staring into space. "This gets more and more like the fricking twilight zone every day." Leaning his elbows on the table he buried his hands in his hair. "This guys MO is just… I don't know. Weird. He's got my attention. I know he wants to hurt me, maim me, kill me or whatever but why not act now? Why wait? I hate that he's getting under my skin and into my head. This guy WANTS me to suffer. He's letting me know that he's in control and there's not a damn thing I can do about it." He sighed. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"No. We're not going to let anything happen to you, Greg."

He gave her a crooked smile. "My knight in shining armour. I guess that makes me the damsel in distress."

"We'll figure this out." She assured him.

"How? No trace, no DNA, no prints. It's a forensic black hole."

"You know, I liked you better when you were wearing crazy shirts, singing to scary music and generally babbling like an imbecile."

He blinked at her bluntness but then laughed. "Well a morbidly morose personality is part of the job description."

"Since when?"

"Since always. We spend all night poking around db's." Greg said. "A fun day out for us is one that doesn't involve the 'Mrs White in the library with the candle stick' scenario."

"Are you off tonight?"

"Depending on my toxicology screening I'd say I'm pretty much off for the rest of my career."

"Grissom won't fire you for this. It's not your fault."

"No he won't. But Ecklie might." Sara raised her brow knowing he was right. Ecklie was a pain in everyone's ass.

"Well, what is they say about chickens and counting eggs?"

"If you start hearing chickens talking call your Doctor."

She laughed. "Don't count them before they've hatched."

"Oh. That. Yeah well I've done the math on this one. Ecklie's going to see me as a liability. No amount of sweet talking from Grissom is going to save my butt this time."

"I wouldn't be so sure. You're good at your job, Greg. Even Ecklie knows that." She told him. "Anyway, getting back to my question."

"Am I off tonight?" he reiterated. "Not supposed to be but I'm sure if I ask nicely I can get it off."

"Good."

"Why?" He gave her a suspicious look.

"Because Gregory Sanders I'm taking you and your morbidly morose personality to dinner."

"Is this like one of those if your foot hurts I'll kick you in the shin so you don't remember the first injury?"

She smiled. "Something like that. Is it working?"

He shrugged. "I don't know but I'm hungry enough to try."

"Great. Get your coat, I'll clear it with Grissom."

"Ok." He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "But if I come back from the bathroom or something and you're swabbing my fork I'm out of there."

She merely laughed.

* * *

**A/N** this is my shortest chapter to date. EEK! lol. Just a little filler after all that excitement! I wont have time to post anything tonight as I've decided to have a social life (it happens from time to time). I cant believe this is chapter thirteen! thanks for everyone who reviews and for sticking with my 30,000 words or so verbal diarrhoea. Thanks to Emily Rae for your messages. They really do make me laugh. Hope you're all having a lazy sunday! Its the only way to do a weekend! 


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** - Sorry for the lack of chapter yesterday, for some reason i just could not write last night. I think after 13 chapters my brain had over loaded! However I'm back with a new update today. Hope it was worth the wait!

I have reposted this chapter again so sorry for any confusion. I noticed a couple of spelling mistakes that were annoying the hell out of me.**

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**Chapter Fourteen **

They headed up town to a small restaurant off the strip for dinner. It was a nice establishment and the food was wonderful. For a while Greg almost felt normal. He laughed, joked, and generally relaxed. Normal felt good.

"You know," he said, taking a sip of his beer, "this almost feels like a date."

Sara raised her brow at him. "It's dinner Greg. Don't get your tux out just yet. Besides," She countered, "I thought you had a thing for the blonde lab assistant." She raised her brow mischieviously.

"Emily?" He asked somewhat surprised that she had even noticed her. He did shamelessly flirt with her but he had never really considered her in that way. "We're friends but…"

"But what?"

"I don't know. She's… Emily." He concluded lamely, unable to think of another reasoning.

"Ok? That made no sense."

"I don't think it was meant to."

She laughed. "You're the most complicated simple person I've ever met."

"Thanks… I think."

"That wasn't a compliment."

He smiled at her. "Seriously though, thank you."

"For what?"

"Getting me out of the lab. I was getting sick of everyone staring at me."

She didn't answer and instead took a mouthful of food. Greg had always had a special place for Sara but he was never sure if she returned those feelings. She was kept her emotions pretty close when it came to relationships. That wasn't to say she was detached, she wasn't. In fact she was far from detached. She often got too close to victims to her own detriment. She was passionate about her work and the few people she did actually let into her life she cared about deeply. He just wished she was easier to read. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking most of the time.

Once they had finished eating, and paid the bill, Sara drove him back to Nick's apartment. Greg had already decided he would stay there tonight and then he would book into a hotel. He didn't want to keep imposing himself on his friends.

"Will you be ok?" Sara asked as she thrust the car into neutral, pulling up outside Nick's.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I don't need you to read me a bedtime story." He half smiled.

"If you need anything-"

"I've got you on speed dial." He reassured her.

Greg got out of the car and watched her drive away for a moment before heading into the apartment. He didn't want to read too much into the evening but it had been nice spending time with Sara. He wondered how she viewed the whole thing and decided it was probably better not to think on it too much. He had enough going on as it was without trying to sort through his feelings for her.

The apartment was silent as he entered, and he quickly flicked the lights on, half expecting to see another collage of himself plastered across the wall. He almost sighed with relief to see there wasn't.

Immediately he headed for the shower, washing, shaving and then dressed in some clean pants. He had tried to get his head around this whole situation but in the end he had been forced to push it from his mind. Thinking about it only made his head hurt.

His mother called just after 10.30pm about coming up to see him. With everything that had been going on, he had forgotten she had rung the night of the dead doll incident. Greg managed to put her off and promised she could come the week after. He didn't want her in Vegas with all of this going on. He hoped the case would be solved by then. He longed to get on with his normal every day life.

Crawling into bed, he had a broken nights sleep and awoke around 10am to a strange sound. Throwing his blankets back he headed into the kitchen and found Nick making breakfast.

"You just got in?" Greg asked, yawning.

"Yeah." He said, glancing up from the stove. "You want some pancakes?"

Greg glanced at the oddly coloured batter swirling around the pan and shook his head. It didn't look like any pancake batter he had ever seen before. It had a strange red hue to it.

"I like my stomach contents on the inside of my body." Nick gave him a puzzled look. "There's something wrong with your mix."

"Oh." Nick lowered his eyes to the pan. "Isn't it supposed to be this colour?"

"No."

He sighed. "You want to go out and eat?" He said as he pulled the frying pan off the heat.

"Sure." Greg replied, rubbing a hand over his chin. "Anything turn up last night?"

"Not really." Nick answered.

Greg grunted wondering why he was surprised at that answer. They hadn't found anything the first time round, why would the second be any different? He realised he had been hoping this guy would mess up, get sloppy. It was optimistic to say the least. This guy knew what he was doing. He wasn't about to make a mistake now.

"I uh heard you and Sara had dinner last night." It was said as a passing comment but Greg noticed the undertone to it.

"Dinner? Yes. It's not like I dragged her back here and made nice, Nick. It was just food."

"It always starts as 'just food', my friend."

Greg gave him a level look not liking where he was going with this. "We're friends." He repeated stubbornly.

"Did I imply otherwise?" Nick said innocently.

Scowling Greg threw a friendly punch his way. "You didn't have to imply. You said it. You know, this is how rumours get started."

Nick laughed. "Hey, my lips are sealed."

Greg never got to retort as his cell vibrated and then rang. Pulling it out he flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.

"Sanders." He glanced up at Nick who was studying him as he listened. "Ok. Yeah. I'll be back in ASAP. Thanks."

Nick looked expectantly at him as he hung up. "Problems?"

"My tox screen came back. Grissom wants to talk about it."

He nodded. "Do you want a ride in?"

"Do you mind? I left my car outside my apartment."

"Of course not. I'll grab my keys."

The drive to the lab was quiet. Greg was too preoccupied trying to second guess what Grissom had found in his blood work. He hoped it was nothing too serious. It was almost with trepidation that he left Nick and headed up to his supervisors office alone. The door was open when he approached and glancing up from his desk, Grissom asked him to take a seat. Nervously Greg closed the door behind him and sank into the chair, tapping his fingers on his knees.

"So am I junkie?" Greg joked, feeling more than uncomfortable with this entire situation. In the back of his mind he kept thinking what would happen to him if his tox screen came back positive. Would he lose his job over this? He couldn't be out in the field hopped up on illicit substances.

"Greg…" Grissom's brow twitched at his fingers tapping and he had to force himself to hold still.

"What is it? Cocaine? Heroin? Aspirin?" Greg needed to know. The suspense was killing him.

"Tox didn't find anything conclusive."

Greg frowned deeply. "What does that mean?"

"How much coffee do you drink?" Greg closed and opened his mouth several times before finally speaking again.

"Is this a trick question?" Greg asked. Grissom shook his head. "I don't know. Depends on my day. Between three and ten…" He broke off as Grissom raised his brow.

"I would cut down. Your caffeine levels are raised."

"Caffeine?" He was perplexed by the way the conversation was heading. He knew Grissom would eventually make his point, he just wished he would do it sooner rather than later. "Did anything else come up?"

Grissom leaned over the desk handing him a sheet of paper. Greg flicked his eyes over the report. He couldn't see anything abnormal aside from his caffeine levels. He almost whistled as he looked over them and made a mental note to try decaff for a while. Either way the report ruled out him being drugged. It still didn't answer how the suspect took the photographs of him asleep however.

"So no drugs, well besides my coffee addiction but caffeine is a stimulant, not a sedative. It wouldn't render me unconscious." Greg pulled his brow. "So what does all of this mean?"

Grissom shrugged. "There's nothing in your system but some drugs only remain traceable for a couple of hours and since we have no idea when those photographs were taken…"

Greg sighed. Grissom still hadn't completely ruled out him being drugged. However the evidence spoke for itself. There was nothing abnormal in his results. He was still no closer to finding the truth.

"What does this mean for me?" Greg asked somewhat hesitantly.

"How do you mean?"

"Can I still work?"

"I don't see why not." Greg smiled, honestly relieved. "There are some conditions however."

Raising his eyes to Grissom he tried to read what was coming next but couldn't. "Such as?"

"Ecklie wants you to shadow Adrienne."

Confused by this, Greg narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"He thinks the rest of the team won't be objective towards you." He tried to keep his face impassive but Greg noticed a slight sour expression in Grissom's eyes.

"You mean in case I start unravelling or something?"

Grissom merely gave him a tight lipped smile. "You've been through a lot."

"Yeah but I'm not unhinged. What does he think I'm going to do? Break down at a scene and have you guys cover for me?"

"I don't know." Grissom responded honestly.

"Great." He muttered irritably. Adrienne was the last person he needed right now. She made him so uncomfortable and he needed work to be easy. It was the only part of his life that was going alright at the moment… well that _had_ been going right.

"You should probably know that she's been investigating your case."

That came as a surprise. "Did you know about this?" Greg asked.

"I knew she was keeping an eye on us, yes. I didn't realise Ecklie had her riffling through the evidence."

"Am I under suspicion of something here?" Greg was anxious. He wasn't sure what this all meant.

"No."

"But Ecklie has someone working on the evidence you, Warrick, Nick, Sara and Catherine have processed?"

"Yes." Grissom's expression was almost forced into a smile. Evidently he had already had this out with Ecklie. Greg wondered how that conversation had gone.

"But why?"

"Ecklie thinks we might have been compromised. We all know you well, Greg."

"So he thinks you might have tampered with the evidence?"

"No."

"This doesn't make any sense."

"Let me worry about Ecklie." Grissom told him firmly, indicating that the conversation on this matter was closed. "Do you feel up to working today?"

"Yes." Greg responded without hesitation. He felt fine. He wanted everyone to stop fussing over him now and just let him get on with it.

"You and Adrienne are on the swing shift."

"Swing? Am I being taken off nights?"

This just kept getting better and better. First Adrienne was reviewing his case, then Ecklie wanted him watched like he was a suspect and now he had been removed from his usual post. This day was getting worse as the minutes ticked by.

"It's just for tonight." Grissom assured him. Greg wanted to believe him but for some reason he didn't. Ecklie was a stickler for protocol.

Thanking him, Greg got to his feet and headed back to the locker room. Nick glanced up as he entered.

"Everything ok?"

"Well I'm not a junkie." Greg muttered. "But Ecklie is having me tailed by our newest member of the team."

"Adrienne is tailing you?" Nick's tone was as confused as Greg felt.

"Yep." He rolled his eyes. "As if things aren't bad enough I've now got 'Carrie White' as my supervisor on shift."

Nick didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Ecklie was keeping an eye on all of them but Greg felt particularly singled out. He obviously thought he was incapable of doing his job. It grated.

After breakfast Nick headed home to sleep whilst Greg busied himself around the apartment until it was time to go back to the lab. Putting his belongings in his locker he headed down to the conference room and found Warrick, Catherine and Adrienne already present.

"Am I late?" He asked, noticing they already had been given their assignments.

"No. sorry Greg." Catherine apologised. "We just had a 419 come in about ten minutes ago. I wanted to brief Adrienne about your assignment before Warrick and I headed out."

Greg felt a little affronted by this. He knew Catherine wasn't doing this to spite him or make him feel inadequate but even so he felt pushed out. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him at all that they had started without him but Adrienne looked almost smug that he had been left out of the proceedings. He resisted scowling and instead took the file Catherine was offering him, flicking through it absently.

"You've got a db down in a farmhouse. There's a patrol onsite already. If you guys get stuck give me a ring. I'm on my cell."

"Thanks." Greg murmured as both Warrick and Catherine left the room.

"You ready to head out?" Adrienne asked.

He glanced up at her, unable to believe the audacity of the woman. She was sneaking around behind his back, looking for ways to have him fired and yet she was sat talking to him as if everything was fine. Greg tried to stop his mouth from opening but the words were spilling out of their own accord.

"We're you ever going to tell me that you're investigating my case?" He demanded. For a moment she went as still as a hunted animal and then shrugged, trying to brush it off as unimportant.

"I was told not to."

"By Ecklie?"

"Yes."

"Was it him who requested you take my hair and DNA?"

She paused, running her tongue over her lips. Her lies were unravelling at her feet. She looked worried. "It wasn't like that Greg."

"Wasn't like what?" he snapped.

"I did what I was told to do."

"You were told by Grissom to take samples from me?" He said pointedly, knowing he had blatantly lied about it.

She winced. "Conrad didn't want anyone knowing I was running the case."

"So you lied and said Grissom had asked for them instead of Ecklie?"

"Conrad asked me to look into the evidence. See if this case is going anywhere." She brushed her brown hair back from her face and leaned her arms on the desk, clasping her hands in front of her. "He wanted someone impartial to look over it."

"To make sure I'm not staging this all myself? Or to make sure I'm fit to work?" He grated. He didn't feel particularly like trying to be pleasant to her. He was pissed off and he wanted her to know that.

"Neither…" She floundered. "Both. I don't know. He didn't give me reasons he just told me to do it."

"You know, when I first met you Adrienne you complained about everyone checking up on you, not treating you as a part of the team or whatever." He shook his head, frustrated, and angry. "If you want to become a member of this team, I suggest you start thinking which side you're on. If you want to kiss Ecklie's ass then fine, kiss it. But don't expect everyone else to hold your hand whilst you're stabbing us in the back."

He turned and left the room, not giving her a chance to respond. He was afraid of what else he would say if he stayed. He was furious. She hadn't even tried to apologise or explain her actions. He made a mental note to keep a closer eye on her.

Together they drove down to the farm house in silence. Neither of them had anything to say. In many ways there was nothing to say. She couldn't excuse what she had done and frankly he didn't want to excuse her. She had snuck around behind everyone's backs, trying to dig up dirt on this and now she was babysitting him out in the field. It irked him severally.

Pulling up behind the patrol car outside of the farmhouse, Greg stepped out of the denali and pulled his sunglasses down to study the building. It was an old house with a large wooden veranda running around the length of it and high triangular shaped eaves. To the back of the house there appeared to be a couple of outbuildings, a large barn and beyond that was a field of what looked to be corn. There wasn't sign of life anywhere.

"Where's the cop?" He glanced around but couldn't see anyone. Usually the responding officer would come out to greet the CSI. Something didn't feel right.

"Maybe he's inside." Adrienne said as she opened the trunk and pulled out her case.

"Maybe…" He muttered but he still had a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. Wandering over to the vehicle he looked through the open door and saw the radio was lying on the passenger seat. "I think we should call for backup." He said over his shoulder.

"What for?" Adrienne gave him an irritated look. "It's too goddamn hot to mess around. Let's just get in there and get this processed."

"Something isn't right here." Greg pressed but she shrugged.

"Greg, it's a crime scene. It's not supposed to be right." She levelled a glare at him. "If you can't do this then call Catherine and have her send Warrick up to help me."

He gave her a murderous look. It was bad enough she was running around behind his back looking for ways to get him out of his job but this wasn't about annoying her or not being able to do his job. This was about their safety. He had been to enough scenes to know the protocol and this wasn't right. He knew it. Had he been with one of the others they would have listened to him and taken his advice on board. She was so blinded by her feelings towards him that she couldn't be objective.

"I know you pretty much don't like me, Adrienne, but please, humour me. There is something wrong here."

She scowled at him, pulling her own sunglasses to rest on top of her head and shook her head. "There's nothing wrong here. Do you need a moment to compose yourself?"

Greg wanted to shake her but instead turned back to the car, looking for anything that might explain why he felt anxious.

"There should be two officers on this scene, Adrienne. Where the hell are they?" He turned around expecting her to still be behind him but she wasn't. Flicking his eyes up he saw she had just entered the house. Angrier than he had ever been in his entire life he quickly pulled his radio out.

"Control?"

_"This is control." _

"This is CSI Greg Sanders. I'm up at the Rosemead Farmstead. I've got a patrol car but no cops. Requesting immediate back up."

_"Affirmed. Wait for backup. ETA ten minutes." _

"I've got a colleague inside."

"_Wait for backup."_ She repeated.

Greg lowered his radio and exhaled deeply. Control had said wait for back up and he remembered all too well what had happened last time he ignored that order but Adrienne was inside, alone. He didn't like her but he couldn't just leave her. Sighing, in a split second he had made a decision.

Unholstering his weapon he hurried over to the house and glanced through the window. He couldn't see anything. They were covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. Readjusting his grip on his handgun he carefully pushed the door open.

It was silent inside. Stepping warily into the building he roved his eyes around the empty room. It was furnished with a few threadbare chairs and a TV that was probably older than Greg. Adrenaline pounded through his veins as he moved slowly, straining his ears to listen. He couldn't hear anything except for the banging of his own heart.

Cautiously he moved around the furniture and into the adjacent room. It was empty also. As he turned something caught his eye. Slowly but purposefully he side stepped across the kitchen and came face to face with a bloodied body. It was a cop. His shirt was soaked red.

His heart pounded painfully beneath his ribs and he could hear his own breath ripping out of him in laboured rags. Where the hell was Adrienne? He carefully stepped back and headed into the living room. The door to what he assumed was the dinning room was closed over. He knew this was the worst idea he had ever had but he couldn't do nothing. There was a dead cop in the kitchen and Adrienne was nowhere to be seen. Pausing for the briefest second he pushed the door open.

What happened next Greg could never remember but he felt, rather than saw, a shadowed figure leap at him. The air knocked out of him, he fell backwards hitting the floor painfully, his gun skimming across the floor out of his reach. Everything happened so fast that he didn't have time to react. Next thing he felt was a heavy weight on top of him. He tried to push back, thrashing his arms and legs out but he couldn't move it. A fist – or something else – connected with his jaw. Blood filled his mouth, spraying across the floor as his head was snapped to the side with the force of the blow. He didn't have time to feel any pain as more beatings were aimed at his face and torso.

Something cold hit his side once and then twice and then a third time. With a mixture of confusion and frustration he cried out, throwing all his weight against his attacker but his arms felt like lead. He tried to focus on the shadowed figure but his vision danced. Blinking, he knew he was close to blacking out and willed his body to fight it but it was too much. The floor felt as if it was pulling him down as dizziness swept over him and as swirling darkness engulfed him the last thing he remembered was looking into a pair of pale blue eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen **

"You found anything?"

Catherine straightened up, brushing her hair back from her shoulders and shrugged.

"Not a damn thing."

She sighed glancing around the scene. It was a typical high flyer's apartment, well furnished and nicely decorated. Sleek and sophisticated there was nothing out of place, well nothing apart from the beautiful brunette posed in a chair, her eyes glazed. Across her wrists ran deep cuts, blood pooled on the floor beneath her. It was such a senseless waste. Catherine sighed as she let her eyes wander over the rest of the room looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing jumped out. Not yet anyway.

"What are you thinking?" Warrick asked, lowering his camera.

"I have no idea." She admitted.

This case looked fairly cut and dry but something about it didn't sit right. Catherine had a nose for these things and she knew when it began twitching to follow it up. She was rarely wrong.

"Well let's look at what we've got." Warrick began, trying to help her work through it, "Young, successful woman, earning a small fortune judging from her apartment, comes home and slashed her own wrists. Why?"

"I don't know." She muttered moving over to the sideboard and casting her eyes over the neatly arranged photo frames.

Everything about this apartment seemed too clean and perfect. It was almost eerie. Catherine wondered how people managed to keep their lives so organised. She guessed it was easier to do if you didn't have kids. Children seemed to cause chaos. Warrick dropped his hands onto his hips.

"You know, Cath, this could just be a suicide."

"Maybe." She said distractedly as her eye caught something. Bending down she studied the carpet disappearing under the side board and frowned. "Let me ask you a question."

"Ok, shoot." Warrick replied.

"In an apartment this clean is it weird to find a stain on the carpet?"

He wandered over, kneeling behind her to look at what she had found. It was only a small mark but it disappeared under the piece of furniture. She suspected there was more underneath it but first she wanted to see what they were dealing with. Taking out a swab she dripped oxidant onto it before she ran it over the stain. Pulling out another bottle, she splashed it with luminol. It instantly turned red.

"Well we've got blood."

Catherine got to her feet, studying the sideboard for a moment. "Help me move this Warrick."

Together they shifted the sideboard out of the way. It was heavy and Catherine let Warrick take most of the weight but once it was moved she stepped around, shining her flashlight on the area.

"Well," She said, glancing down at the blood stain that was burned into the carpet. "I think we've just ruled out suicide."

Warrick raised his brow. "I'd say so. Unless her blood somehow sprayed under the sideboard."

Catherine placed the swab in a clear bag and handed it to Warrick as her cell rang. Pulling it out, she flicked her hair out of the way as she put it to her ear.

"Willows?"

As she listened to the voice on the end of the phone she felt her entire body tense. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She couldn't remember exactly how she responded but when she hung up she felt Warrick's hand on her shoulder.

"Cath? What's wrong?"

Turning to face him, she stared at him for a moment unsure of what to say. Eventually she found her voice but all she could manage to do was mutter an answer.

"Its Greg and Adrienne…" She breathed heavily. "There's been an incident."

* * *

Voices. Muffled at first. They became clearer as the minutes passed. He tried to listen. He had given up trying to open his eyes, it hurt too much. He hadn't even given a thought to moving. Everything ached.

_"Greg?"_

He heard his name and tried to place who the voice belonged to but he couldn't. He knew his arms were by his side. He could feel the wooden flooring beneath him. It was hard, biting into his back. He could smell something. Latex. He figured it was a medic. He tried to answer the voice but his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Instead he merely groaned.

_"It's ok, don't try to speak. Just squeeze my hand if you can hear me."_

He felt the cool touch of skin on his and tried to squeeze. He didn't have the strength. He must have managed to do something however as the voice spoke again.

"_Ok. Just relax, we're going to take care of you."_

Adrienne… he had never found her. He wondered if she was alive. He didn't remember much. He remembered entering the house. He remembered finding the dead cop. Then nothing. Just pain. That was his last thought. Intense pain. If the voice said anything else he never heard it. He was already slipping back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Nick had arrived a UMC last. Running, he had garbled Greg and Adrienne's names at the receptionist and been directed up the corridor. He had no idea what had happened. All he had been told by Catherine was to get to the hospital ASAP. He had done so at breakneck speed. How he had got there in one piece he did not know. Jogging towards the room he was greeted by two male cops he didn't know. They stopped him.

"I'm CSI." He explained hurriedly, flashing his ID. The officer gave him the sympathetic look of someone who knew the situation was as bad as it could possibly be. It worried Nick.

"Your colleagues are in with the doctor now."

"Do you know how they are?" Nick asked desperate for any information. The man shrugged apologetically.

"I'm sorry. The rest of your team are in the waiting room." The cop informed him, pointing at a room just off the corridor. Nick hurriedly thanked him before entering.

It was a small white washed room containing several comfortable looking chairs. Most were occupied by crime scene investigators. Both Warrick and Grissom glanced up at him as he stepped into the room but Catherine kept her eyes on the floor staring at nothing. Sara gave him a fleeting look before continuing to chew on her nails.

"Are they ok?"

"Adrienne is in surgery." Grissom said quietly. "Greg is in with the doctor now. We'll know more when she's looked over him."

"What the hell happened?" Nick demanded rubbing at his temple, pacing a little. The lack of information was frustrating.

"As far as we can tell there was a problem on the scene." Grissom spoke after a moment. "It wasn't properly cleared. Greg called for back up but Adrienne had already entered. He went in after her." Grissom sighed.

He looked tired, somehow older than his years. Nick had never seen him look as stressed as he did right now. Not that it was surprising. Two of their team were in the hospital and no one knew how they were doing.

"I should never have sent them there." Catherine muttered. Nick turned to her, frowning deeply at her dejected tone.

"Catherine it's not your fault." Grissom tried to reassure her but she continued relentlessly.

"I sent them on that case." She counted, her brow furrowing.

"You didn't know the scene wouldn't be clear."

"I should have sent a level three with them." She shook her head stubbornly. "They should never have been out there alone."

"Adrienne's more than qualified to be out there handling cases." Warrick told her, rubbing her shoulder..

"As is Greg." Nick said. "You didn't know what was going to happen."

"The truth is," Grissom began, "every day we put ourselves at risk by going out into the field. We never know what will happen at a scene and so all we can do is take the necessary precautions."

"What happens when those precautions aren't enough, Gil?" Catherine asked, her eyes filling with tears. He met her eyes but didn't respond. There was no counter argument. No words of wisdom. Nothing he said could fix this now. Nick watched as Warrick draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. This was messed up.

It was only ten minutes before a lady in scrubs came into the room but to Nick those ten minutes might as well have been ten years. All five of them turned to her as she pulled up a chair.

"What's going on?" Nick asked.

The doctor was in her mid forties with dark hair pulled into a clip at the nape of her neck. She pulled up a chair, sinking into it before addressing them all.

"Ms West received five stab wounds to the stomach. She has severe damage to her spleen. I think it will probably have to be removed. We'll know more when she gets out of surgery."

"And Greg?"

"Mr Sanders received a two stab wounds to his stomach and one to his left arm. The rest of his wounds are superficial."

"What's the prognosis?" Sara spoke for the first time but she didn't look up. She looked crestfallen.

"We'll know more once they're both out of surgery." The doctor informed them.

To Nick that was as good as saying they were screwed. 'We'll know more' was like a death sentence. It's what doctors said when they didn't like the odds.

"If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask." She said getting to her feet and leaving.

Nick glanced around at his friends; their faces all wore the same bleak expressions. No one wanted to think the worst but right now they didn't have anything else to work on. This was going to be the longest night any of them had had in a long time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen **

Waking up was painful and slow. At first all he could hear were voices talking in hushed tones. He couldn't make out what was being said but he heard his name mentioned twice. He tried to force himself to wake up but he was dragged back into blackness. It was a couple of hours before he managed to bring himself round again.

Carefully prising his eyes open he had to blink several times before the room came hazily into focus. Not daring to move his head he let his eyes move around the room. He was in a hospital bed. At his side he could hear the slow rhythmic beeping of a machine and he could smell sterile chemicals. As he dropped his gaze to the end of the bed he allowed himself a small smile.

Her elbow was propped against the arm of the chair, her head leaning on her fist. Despite not being able to see her face, he knew who it was instantly by the dark hair. He tried to speak but his voice crackled and came out as a groan. It was enough. Instantly awake, she glanced around for the source of the noise, her eyes resting on his face.

"Hey." She murmured softly, moving over to the side of the bed.

"Hey." His mouth was dry and his throat burnt. The word ripped out in acidic rags.

"I didn't think you would be awake yet." There was a hint of relief in her tone but her brow was still lined with worry. He wanted to reach his hand out to her and tell her everything was ok but his body didn't want to move.

"What happened?" He asked after a moment.

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head slightly. Little bits of what had happened were embedded into his mind but the majority of what had occurred after entering the farmhouse was a blur. He tried to remember but it made his head ache.

"All I remember is going into the house and then… nothing."

He licked his lips, trying to get some moisture on to them. His mouth was so dry. His tongue felt thick in his mouth. Sara turned, reaching for something to the side of his bed. Gently she held the cup under his chin and placed the straw in his mouth. He sipped it slowly, relieved as the cold water hit the back of his throat.

"Is that enough?" She asked him, studying his face as if he was about to break.

"Yeah." He mumbled, his voice breaking as he sank back into his pillows and stared at the ceiling. "Is Adrienne ok?"

There was a long pause. Too long. Greg lowered his eyes to her face but she was staring at her hands. Her expression worried him. It was hopeless.

"Sara?"

She glanced up at him finally. "She's bad, Greg."

He closed his eyes. He didn't get on with her but he didn't want anything to happen to her. She didn't deserve this. No one did.

"Is… is she going to make it?" he tried to keep the emotion out of his voice but failed miserably.

"I don't know."

He tried to get his head around it but he couldn't. He vaguely remembered he had told her not to go into the house. He wished she had listened. He wished Ecklie had never paired them up together. Had she been with Cath or Warrick she would never have gone into that house. She would have listened to them.

He dropped his eyes to the bandage wrapped tightly around his arm and wondered what had happened to it. It was the same arm he had hurt in his initial attack. He didn't know how damaged it was but he realised it would probably never be the same again. He hoped he was wrong.

"What happened to me?"

He tried to shift himself in the bed but wished he hadn't as a sharp pain ran across his stomach. Sara winced as he groaned.

"You were stabbed." She whispered finally, her eyes haunted. Greg knew it must have been serious by the look on her face. Had he been close to death? The thought of it frightened him.

"Nothing too serious then." He muttered shocked.

"Greg…" She started but he gave her a broad smile. It was feigned but he hoped she didn't see through it.

"At least I get another paid vacation."

She sighed, clearly frustrated with him. She didn't understand that making jokes was his way of dealing with things. If he didn't laugh he would crack up. The last month had been the worst point of his entire life. He didn't know if he could bounce back from it. It was testing his resolve just to get out of bed some mornings. This event would not help him any further. Every day was harder than the one before it.

"That's not funny." Sara chided him. He met her eyes. She looked saddened. Worried. Dejected even. It hurt him to see her like that.

"It wasn't supposed to be." He said quietly.

Silence grew in the air like a plague, touching everyone it came into contact with. It was awkward, undulating, unpleasant. Greg almost wanted to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep just to break it. He respected her too much to do that to her however. He searched for something to say. Anything. He didn't care what it was; he just needed to stop the tension.

"Where are the others?" He said finally. She almost seemed relieved that he had spoken.

"Nick left about an hour ago to sleep. Grissom, Catherine and Warrick are on shift tonight."

_Tonight_? Greg roved his eyes around the room and finally located a clock on the wall. To his surprise it was late. He wondered how long he had been out of it. Somewhat hesitantly he asked Sara. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Three days."

He blinked at that. He hadn't expected it to be that long. It was strange to hear so much time had passed without him being aware of it. It was eerie. Mentally he calculated it was Friday. He should have been on shift tonight. For that matter so should Sara.

"Aren't you in tonight?" He asked.

"Grissom gave me it off."

He nodded, closing his eyes. He was so tired. His body was aching. He wanted to stay awake, to talk to her but he could feel himself drifting off. He forced himself to be alert.

"Sleep if you're tired."

He shook his head, taking her hand. "I want to see you."

Smiling at him, she pulled her chair to the edge of the bed and sank onto it. They drifted into silence again but this time it wasn't awkward, undulating or unpleasant. It was comfortable. In fact it was nice.

* * *

Warrick had been in the AV lab when he heard raised voices. Confused and also a little curious he rose from the table and stuck his head out of the door. Several others had followed suit and along the length of the corridor people were looking in the direction of the altercation. It was coming from Grissom's office.

Frowning, Warrick moved closer, still keeping his distance. He recognized two of the voices immediately as Catherine's and Ecklie's. He assumed Grissom was also present but he couldn't hear him.

After a moment the door flew open and Catherine strode out followed by Ecklie. Grissom appeared last. She was angrier than Warrick had ever seen her.

"Catherine-" Ecklie began but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"This is bull, Ecklie and you know it!"

"It's policy." He said glancing around, acutely aware of the corridor filled with people. "Maybe we should take this to my office."

"No, if you want to fire me, you do it right here." She snapped, crossing her hands over her chest. Grissom stepped forward, speaking softly.

"Catherine-"

"No Gil. This is a bunch of crap." She snapped, her lip curling. "Someone has to take the fall for this and for some reason I'm the scapegoat."

"You'll be back in five days." Grissom tried to diffuse the situation but he wasn't really getting anywhere.

"So I get a five day suspension because your newest rookie can't follow protocol?" Catherine demanded incredulously glaring at Ecklie. "Greg called in for assistance but she had already entered the house! She caused this entire situation and _you_ cleared her for field work, Ecklie."

"Do you want to make your suspension two weeks?" Ecklie levelled a glare at her. Catherine gave him a look of pure disgust.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She turned on her heel and stormed off up the corridor. Warrick stood momentarily shocked as he watched her go before flicking his eyes back to Grissom and Ecklie. Griss was glancing down at his feet, his hands on his hips.

"I had no choice Gil." Ecklie tried to justify his decision.

Grissom raised his head and gave him a dark glare. "There's always a choice." He said stepping back into his office and closing the door behind him.

The tension in the corridor could have been cut with a knife. Finally Ecklie looked up and snapped at them to get back to work before taking off in the opposite direction. Warrick headed after Catherine.

He found her in the locker room, riffling angrily through her belongings. She half glanced up at him as he hovered in the doorway. Her whole stance was furious.

"You ok?" he winced as he asked it. It seemed somehow inappropriate.

"Just peachy." She scowled.

"What happened?" He said hesitantly.

"Ecklie's got to find someone to pin this crap on." Catherine growled. "He thinks I shouldn't have sent a level one and two out alone. Somehow this is my fault."

She sank on to the bench, her anger fading only to be replaced with despair. Warrick understood instantly were her reaction had come from. It wasn't at the fact she was being suspended – although she was clearly angry about that – but because she did blame herself. It was crap. Adrienne was more than qualified to deal with scenes alone. Warrick told her as much.

"I sent them out Warrick and now they're both in the hospital." Catherine took a shuddering breath. "I should have gone with them."

Warrick frowned, moving into the room and dropping down beside her.

"You're only one person, Cath. You can't be everywhere all the time."

She glanced up at him, her expression distraught. "They should have been out with a level three." She repeated stubbornly.

"Adrienne is a level two, with over five years experience in the field. God, I was out on my own as a level one. She should have known better." Warrick reassured her. "This is not your fault. It isn't anyone's fault."

Warrick said it but he didn't believe his own words. They knew Greg had called in to control requesting back up. He had listened to the call himself. He had clearly stated he had a colleague inside.

Although they didn't know for a fact what had happened Warrick figured they had pulled up on scene and found something amiss. For some reason Adrienne had ended up in the house anyway. She must have ignored Greg's anxieties and entered. He couldn't imagine it happening any other way.

They would have arrived, found no officers and as protocol dictated they should not have entered the house, calling for back up. Greg _had_ called for back up, clearly indicating he thought there was a problem, but there was no other explanation for why he had gone into the house. Unless she had ignored Greg.

Warrick shook his head. She had caused this entire situation by ignoring procedure. As a level two she should have known better.

Catherine got to her feet, pulling her purse out of her locker. "I can't be here right now. If I see Ecklie I don't think I will be responsible for my actions." She said pointedly. "I'll see you in few days."

She turned and walked out of the locker room leaving Warrick feeling despondent. It was bad enough two of their team were in the hospital but now they had lost Catherine as well. This whole thing sucked. Warrick wondered how much worse things could possibly get. Right now nothing couldn't top this. The last time things had been this bad Nick had been buried alive. Warrick felt as if it was only a matter of time before they were all buried under this crap.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen **

Catherine felt guilty. It wasn't an emotion she was used to feeling and she wasn't quite sure what to do with it. After her argument with Ecklie and her eventual suspension she had intended to head home, have a bath, maybe grab a movie or something with Lindsey but instead she had found herself at the hospital. She wasn't sure why but she needed to see Greg. She needed to explain what had happened. In many ways she needed to apologise.

As she stepped into the side room she paused, a stab of pain running through her. Greg was propped up in the bed, a multitude of pillows fanned out behind his back. His eyes were closed and there was some heavy bruising around his cheeks and neck, the majority of which were already turning black and purple. Her eyes dropped to his bandaged hand and although his hospital gown hid his slender frame she knew he had wounds to his stomach. The last time she had come to him in hospital like this it had been to tell him she had caused the blast in the lab. This time she was coming to tell him it was her fault he got stabbed.

Sara was asleep in the chair at the side of the bed. She was curled up in what must have been the most uncomfortable position in the world, her head sagging onto her chest. She looked exhausted and absently she wondered when she had last slept properly. Catherine, not wanting to disturb either of them, turned to leave.

"Cath?"

She glanced over her shoulder as Greg's eyes fluttered open. Sara stirred and came awake also. Smiling faintly the blonde woman walked into the room, hovering at the end of the bed, she had almost been glad they were both asleep. It meant she would have been able to put this off for a while but no such luck. They were both studying her carefully. She felt like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I didn't want to wake you." She tried to explain why she had tried to make a hasty departure but it seemed a pathetic excuse.

"It's nice to be woken by someone who doesn't want to prod me or take my blood." Greg said with a small smile. Catherine returned it barely. She didn't know what to say to him. For a brief moment there was a hint of tension in the air. It was broken by Sara getting to her feet.

"I'm uh going to get a coffee… you want one?" She asked Catherine.

She shook her head and watched as the younger woman left the room, grateful that she wouldn't have to do this in front of an audience. If Sara had guessed her reason for coming here she had said nothing. Catherine was grateful she hadn't. She felt bad enough as it was.

"So um… how are you? Catherine asked, moving hesitantly to occupy the seat Sara had just vacated. It seemed an inadequate thing to ask, all things considered, but she didn't know what else to say.

"I'm ok." He replied.

It was forced, Catherine could tell that immediately but she didn't comment on it. She always felt like he thought had something to prove to everyone else, as if admitting he was hurting and traumatised would somehow make people think less of him. She wanted to tell him he didn't have to pretend to be coping. That there was no shame in letting it all out but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. She could tell he was doing all he could at the moment to keep his emotions under control. Glancing down at her hands instead she took a deep breath. She knew nothing she said was going to change what had happened but she had to do something.

"I'm sorry Greg." She mumbled finally.

He gave her a puzzled look. "For what?"

"This." She gestured at the hospital bed. "All of it."

"Catherine," he frowned deeply. "This wasn't your fault."

She flicked her brow slightly. He might have thought that but Ecklie didn't. He held her completely responsible for this mess. She held herself responsible. She should have sent Warrick with one of them. It was an error in judgement, one that could end with the death of one of her co-workers.

"No," She sighed, "it really was my fault." She wasn't ready to be let off the hook yet. Even if Greg thought she wasn't to blame she knew deep down that she was. No words could change that. "Anyway, I didn't come here to make you feel bad. I just wanted to apologise. As redundant as that is."

She felt his hand slip on top of hers and glanced up at him. He gave her a warm smile. It seemed to make everything seem better. Greg had an easy temperament and he was always the first to try and cheer everyone up. It was his way. He was the comedian, the comic value in the team. Even lately with everything that had happened he had still managed to keep them all smiling. She missed that. She missed his little quips. His ridiculousness. His inappropriate jokes. He looked so sombre lying there, bruised and bandaged. She wondered how much more of this he could take. This last month had been too much for any person to deal with and she hoped, with the resilience of youth, that he could pull back from this and get on with his life. She wondered if it was a vain hope.

"Catherine," Greg spoke softly, pronouncing each word carefully. He sounded tired. "Adrienne chose to go into that house and I chose to follow her. If anything we're to blame. Besides, this got me a free stay in hospital and probably another couple of weeks off work. It's not all bad."

She couldn't help but return his smile this time. If he was making jokes things couldn't be that awful. "Get better ok." She ordered sternly. "We're gonna miss you around the lab."

"Miss having a gofer you mean." He levelled at her. She laughed before she could stop herself.

"That's what happens when you're the baby of the family, Greg." She smirked at him, feeling a little better about the whole situation.

"Never going to get rid of that title, am I?" he sighed dramatically but she caught the slight twitch of his lips.

"Not a chance."

They both fell silent for a moment. Catherine studied him, trying to work out what he was thinking, wondering if she should say something comforting but she couldn't think of anything remotely suitable. She was glad when Greg eventually spoke. It meant she didn't have to find something to fill the gap.

"Any word on Adrienne?"

Catherine was uncertain of how much he knew and so wasn't sure how to answer the question. She had looked in on the other CSI before coming to see Greg. She was critical still but in the last hour she had come off the respirator and was breathing on her own. Despite not being awake yet Catherine couldn't help but think that was a good sign. Again she felt a stab of guilt. She wished she could go back three days and change what had happened.

"You're both going to be fine." She said more to herself than to him. She wanted to believe that. She _needed_ to believe that. Greg merely nodded.

"Cath? What happened in the house?"

She frowned at him. "Hasn't anyone told you?"

He shook his head. "I've only really been coherent for the last four or five hours. I asked Sara but don't I think she wanted me to worry."

Catherine hesitated momentarily, wondering if she should say anything. She gave a fleeting thought to how it would affect him but then decided if he had asked he was obviously ready to know. He was, after all, a grown man capable of making his own decisions. Who was she to say what was right for him?

"When the attending officers arrived they found the db but the suspect hadn't left the scene." Catherine began quietly, watching him carefully for any reaction. He kept his face impassive however and so with a deep breath she continued. "He attacked them both and as far as I can figure it you and Adrienne turned up. You didn't give him a chance to leave and so he panicked, thinking you were cops."

It felt cold and calculating how she had relayed it to him. She guessed it was due tto the fact she was used to handing over cases in this way. _Old habits die hard_, _wasn't that the phrase?_ She thought absently. But this wasn't any case. It wasn't nameless victims and unknown suspects. It was Greg and Adrienne. People she knew and cared about. She left out that one of the police officers, a Sergeant Mathew Johnson, was dead. The other, Thomas Riley, wasn't far behind him either. She didn't think he was ready to hear that. When he sighed with honest relief she gave him a confused look but then realised what was wrong.

"He's nothing to do with your case, Greg. It was a domestic issue that got out of hand." He closed his eyes, passing a fatigued hand over them.

"Did you get the guy?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Prints and epithelia's on the blade were all a match to him. He's going down for a long assed time."

He sank back into his pillows. He looked so dishevelled. So small. So tired. A shell of the Greg she knew. She half expected him to jump up and do something stupid or make a joke. She wasn't used to seeing him so defeated. It hurt to see him like that. When Sara returned Catherine made an excuse and left. All things considered she couldn't help but think a five day suspension wasn't nearly enough punishment for what had happened.

* * *

Nick was exhausted. This was his third double shift in a row and he was feeling it. Not that he would ever complain about it. The grave yard shift was two down with Adrienne and Greg in the hospital and now with Catherine's suspension that only left him, Warrick and Grissom. Sara had been paged and would join them shortly but even so it was going to be long night.

Aimlessly wandering down the corridor of the crime lab he stuck his head into the trace lab and found Hodges glued to the scope. Sinking onto the stool opposite him, he rested his head on his hands and yawned. Hodges glanced up at him.

"Is this a social call?"

"Man, I don't even remember the last time I did anything social."

"Ok Paris Hilton, don't throw your glitter stilettos out just yet. Things will eventually go back to normal. Whatever qualifies for normal around here anyway." Hodges muttered, "Did you come here to annoy me or did you actually want something."

"Are my results back in yet?" Nick said with a laugh.

Hodges gave him an inscrutable look that could have expressed anything between irritation and amusement before turned to a stack of paper at his side. Nick watched him absently. He liked Hodges. Sure, he was an ass kisser and slightly strange at times but there was something refreshing about him. Plus he was good at his job. After a moment he located what he wanted and instead of handing him the sheet he began to tell him what he had found. Nick would rather have read the report himself but he knew Hodges well enough to know that he wouldn't hand it over until he had told him what it said. Obligingly he listened.

"The trace you found on your db? Turns out its nothing more than talcum powder."

Nick snapped his head down at the report and took it from him, scanning his eyes over it. That had not been the answer he was expecting. This case was confusing. Twenty two year old male found dead, assumed suicide. He had all the signs of drug over dose and they had even found traces of a white substance on the scene. Nick had assumed that was how he had killed himself. He had expected it to come back as some kind of drug. This revelation made no sense whatsoever.

"He OD'd on talc?"

"I doubt it." Hodge said, "But I'm sure he had lovely soft skin."

Nick narrowed his brow. "This is weird."

"What did tox throw up?"

"Nothing yet." Nick was already walking for the door, his head stuck in the report.

"You're welcome by the way." Hodges called after him. Nick half turned, waving thanks at him before moving back up the corridor.

He was just walking passed the DNA lab when he heard something smash. Pulling his eyes from what he was reading he saw Emily kneeling on the floor, surrounded by glass.

"You ok?" He asked as he moved closer to her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and stood. She looked distressed, close to tears even. As she turned to him he noticed she was holding her hand. It was dripping with blood, bright red and trickling off her fingers, splashing onto the floor. Quickly he grabbed a wad of paper towels from the dispenser above the sink and pressed it to the gash. She winced as he did it.

"That looks deep." He told her, leading her over to a stool.

"It's not." She muttered sliding onto it, using her free hand to settle herself onto it. Her normally perfect hair was pulled into a pony tail but several strands had escaped and hung loosely around her face. She glanced down at the blood seeping through the towels. Her expression was unreadable,

"I think you need stitches." Nick said grabbing a fresh towel and replacing the saturated one.

"I'm fine." She repeated. Nick, knowing he was getting nowhere, tried a different approach.

"What happened?"

"I'm a clumsy idiot, that's all." When he gave her a questioning look she rolled her eyes a little and continued to explain. "I dropped a rack of beakers, tried to catch them as they were falling. Nothing too serious. It will stop in a minute." She assured him. Her tone was dejected.

"Are you ok?" She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes and shrugged.

"I don't know." Emily replied honestly before lowering her gaze to her hand again. "It's not fair." She continued finally.

"What's not?"

"Everything. Greg. Adrienne." She added the woman almost as an afterthought.

Nick knew she was close to Greg and truthfully he had not really given much thought to how much this had affected her – or anyone else for that matter. He felt like a complete ass. He should have noticed. He was supposed to be observant.

"They'll be ok." He told her firmly.

"It shouldn't have happened like this."

There was a hint of anger in her voice. Nick understood it. He felt the same. It shouldn't have happened to either of them. He knew what they did could be unpredictable, even dangerous at times. There wasn't a single member of the team that hadn't at some point been in a similar situation. Every single one of them had personal demons that had emerged from working at the crime lab. Some more than others but this whole situation sucked. Greg had already been through so much in the last month. Emily was right, it wasn't fair.

"Sometimes," He said softly, "things happen. Things that we have no control over. It comes with the job."

Emily gave him a level glare. "Things happen? Sure, ok, things happen but he got stabbed Nick. It's not right. He could have died! And what if he had? It wasn't his time to go."

Nick frowned deeply, unsure of what to say to her. Her distress made him feel uncomfortable. He gently squeezed her shoulder. "He's fine, Emily. He's going to get better and in a couple of weeks he'll be back here running around like a kid with ADD."

She laughed a little at that. "I know you're right. I just can't help but feel like… I don't know." She concluded with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"C'mon." He said helping her off the stool. "Let's wash this out, see if you do need stitches."

"Nick," She scowled with frustration, shrugging free of his grip. "I don't need stitches, it's just a cut. Honestly I'm fine. I'm more worried that Ecklie's going to take this out of my pay cheque."

He studied her for a moment but she glared back at him with a look of resolved defiance. She wasn't going to back down over this. "At least let me get you band aid."

"And a magic star?" She asked wryly.

"I'm not sure Griss stocks magic stars in the first aid kit. Maybe he'll have a lollipop or something." He said it so seriously that for a moment she stared at him, her eyes narrowed. He laughed.

"I'm joking."

She pulled a face at him before speaking again. "I heard Cath got suspended."

"Yeah." Nick sighed.

"Ecklie really is an ass."

"You're telling me."

"How long have you known Greg?" She asked. Nick blinked. The question had seemingly come out of nowhere.

"I dunno, years."

"Do you know on my first day here he drew me a plan of the entire building so I didn't get lost?" She laughed. "Then he took me for breakfast after my shift, asked me how I felt about it. It was so nice. I've worked in a lot of places but I've never been made to feel that welcome." Nick momentarily felt guilty that he had never even thought about it. In fact he had bet Warrick that she wouldn't last longer than a week. He had been wrong however.

"Yeah, Greg's a social whore." He smiled. "I'm uh going the hospital after shift. You can come with if you want to."

She nodded. "I'd like to see him. Thanks."

"No worries."

""I really hope he's going to be ok. I miss him not being here."

"He'll be fine. He's stubborn as hell our Greggo." He said with a grin. "I'll go grab you a band aid." He said turning and walking out of the lab.

Amused, Nick realised that their newest lab rat had something of a crush on Greg. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. It should have been obvious. Greg could charm the birds out of the trees. Or in this case out of the crime lab. Laughing all the way to the break room he couldn't wait to tell Warrick. As soon as Greg was well enough this was going to be the source of many, many inappropriate jokes.

* * *

**A/N** Sorry for all the fillers but to be honest its a necessary evil. I had to tie up some loose ends. Besides Greg's just been skewered. I'm not sure he can be running around with the wind in his hair Julie Andrew's style! I promise its going to get EXCITING again soon. We're getting towards the end of this story and I think an explosive finish might be on the cards (actually I know it is since i'm writing it!) D 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and those who read but didnt leave comments. Muchos appreciated. This story is getting bigger and bigger as the days go on. I cant believe its nearly 45,000 words already. Its insane. But anywho. Digressing. I'm off to write the next part although it might not be posted till tomorrow, depending on how my creative juices are flowing! Listening to Phil Collins on yahoo launch player is NOT helping however. Lol!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Nineteen **

It was over a week later when Greg was finally released from hospital. With the all clear - and a bag of medication that was enough to keep him going for the rest of his life - he pulled his jacket on as Nick entered his hospital room. He glanced up, wincing at the tightness in his stomach from the movement.

"You ok buddy?" Nick asked.

"I'll be a hell of a lot better when we get out of here. I think hospital food is designed to kill the patients they don't like." He grumbled. Nick laughed. "I swear I've lost half my body weight since I've been in here."

"Mexican? Chinese or Italian?"

Greg flicked his eyes to the clock on the wall. "Nick, its not even lunch time."

"Technically this is my supper."

"Good point." Greg admitted, remembering he had just got off shift. "I don't care what we eat. Anything is better than jello."

Nick grabbed Greg's bag off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder as the younger man shakily followed him out of the room. He felt weak still and although everything ached he tried to walk as tall as he could physically manage. He wanted to go home and he was afraid that if the nurses saw him struggling he would be ordered back to the hospital bed.

Half way down the corridor he paused, his eye catching Adrienne's room. Through the window he could see her lying in the bed, hooked up to various machines. Her face was as bruised as his, probably more so, and her chestnut hair was fanned out across her pillows. Nick had stopped also and was studying him carefully.

"Can you give me a sec?" Greg asked. Nick nodded.

Pushing the door of her room open, he stepped in tentatively. She opened her eyes and met his gaze before looking away. Greg knew she felt guilty for what had happened. Of course she did, it was her fault he had ended up in that house. Even so he didn't blame her. He couldn't bring himself to. She must have known her antics had got Catherine suspended, left Greg seriously injured and had nearly killed her. That was punishment enough.

"How you feeling?" Greg asked finally moving to pull up a chair at the side of the bed.

"Tired." She mumbled. "And sorry." She gave him a crooked smile.

"I know." He said quietly.

"Greg-"

"Don't apologise." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "It's happened. You can't change it any more than I can."

"I should have listened to you." Her brow knitted.

"Yeah, you should have." He said pointedly. "But you're not the first person to ignore me, and I doubt you'll be the last."

Adrienne sighed deeply. "Are you going to be ok?"

"I won't be running any marathons for a while, but yeah, I'm going to be fine."

"My mom," She spoke in barely more than a whisper, "she always told me that my pigheaded stubbornness would get me into trouble one day."

"Well next time you decide to have a moment of pigheaded stubbornness can you do it away from me? They're talking about naming this department the Sander's suite." She glanced up at him, trying to work out if he was being serious. He couldn't help but laugh at her expression. "That was a joke wasn't it?"

"Yes." He reluctantly admitted. "Although I would be quietly impressed if they did."

"As far as I can tell, Greg, you don't know the meaning of the word quiet."

He shrugged. "I'm extrovert."

She blew her cheeks out in a rush of air. "When I get out of here the first thing I am getting is a subway sandwich with _everything_ on." He laughed.

"Play your cards right and I might see if I can sneak one in passed the nurses." He said easing himself to his feet slowly, his hand automatically going to his side.

"Thanks." She paused. "Take care of yourself ok?"

"I always do."

Nick looked up at him as he stepped back out into the corridor. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. So, food?"

They had ordered food to takeout. Eventually they had decided on waffles, pancakes and some kind of meat that could have been sausage, Greg wasn't sure, before driving back to Nick's apartment. Greg had tried to insist on going back to his own place but Nick wouldn't relent on this one. In many respects he was glad Nick had forced the issue. He wasn't sure he wanted to be alone yet. He still felt pretty fragile. Greg figured things couldn't get any worse but he had been wrong on that count several times before. Either way he was glad of the company.

The next three weeks passed uneventfully. Greg was recuperating slowly and Adrienne had even been released from the hospital shortly after he was. He spent his days watching TV, reading and generally lounging around. He didn't have the energy to do much else.

He had moved back, somewhat hesitantly, to his own apartment after the first week. Nick had told him he could stay with him for longer but he felt like a child being babysat. He had almost expected to put his key in the door and find his 'friend' had left another present for him. He was amazed to find his apartment exactly as he had left it. It was the first time he had returned to his home and not had to call the cops. It was a refreshing change.

During the second week Grissom had set Greg up with a therapy group, despite his protests that he didn't need it. He had insisted however and somehow it became a condition of his returning to work so Greg had reluctantly relented. He hadn't really had much say in the matter but he chose to see it as his own choice to attend. He wouldn't have done it otherwise. In truth the sessions weren't that bad. It was kind of like an AA meeting for cops who had seen or experienced awful things. If it got him back to work quicker then he didn't mind giving up an hour once a week to discuss his feelings with a group of strangers.

As time passed he settled into a steady predictive routine, broken only half way through the fourth week of his leave from work by his parents. They had called to say they were in town and wanted to see him. Greg didn't know if he wanted to but when he opened the door of his apartment and came face to face with his mother he practically threw himself into her arms. He hadn't realised how much he needed her comfort, her reassurance. In some ways she was more helpful than his therapy sessions.

His parents spent a pleasant four days with him. His mom, of course, spent the entire trip in what Greg referred to as 'supermom mode'. She fussed incessantly over him and fed him more than he was physically able to eat. He wondered if she thought he starved himself when she wasn't here. He was almost glad when he saw them off at the airport. He was missing his own space.

"Thanks for the ride." Greg said to Nick as they walked back to the car.

Greg's car had chosen that week to grind to a halt and was in the garage. Much to his annoyance it had taken two days longer than the mechanic had promised to fix it. Nick had valiantly stepped up to offer Greg's parents a lift to the airport. Nick patted him on the shoulder.

"No worries." Nick cast a sidelong look at him. "You seem quiet. You ok man?"

"Yeah. Just glad to have my life back. I love my mom but I swear she thinks I'm going to break. She fusses over me like I'm a baby."

"That's her job, kiddo." He said with a grin that earned him a glare from Greg.

"Don't you start. To be honest, I felt pretty bad lying to them." When Nick gave him a puzzled look he continued to explain. "I didn't tell them about my crazified stalker."

"How come?" Greg pulled a wry face.

"Because if I had I would have been on that plane with them."

"Well it's been five weeks since the last incident?"

"Thirty days." Greg corrected him.

"Thirty days, whatever. Maybe this wacko has got bored." Greg gave him a sceptical look. But Nick shrugged. "Stranger things have happened, my friend."

"I guess." Greg replied, not really believing his words. He changed the subject quickly. He didn't have the head space to think about that right now. "To be honest I just want to get back to work. I've been off for nearly two months now. I'm missing it."

Greg hadn't realised it had been that long till he said it but it was true. He had barely got back to work after his month off following his beating and then he had been stabbed. He was starting to feel out of touch with his normal life. It was irritating him.

"You're feeling honest a lot today, Greggo." Nick told him with a grin.

"I used the word twice. It doesn't mean I'm thinking of any major life style overhauls."

"Well, it won't be long now. In less than twenty four hours you'll be wishing you were back at home, slobbing out in front of the TV."

"I doubt it." Greg muttered. He was looking forward to his shift tomorrow night. Doing nothing was only fun for a time. It wore thin rather quickly.

"You will when you see the back log of cases we have."

"I thought Ecklie had hired a new level three." Greg frowned.

"He did." Nick's voice dropped low, his face contorting. "The guy can't tell his ass from his elbow. Adrienne might have been a moody hormonal… well let's just say I would rather have her than this guy."

Greg had listened to Nick moaning about the new guy multiple times but it still made him laugh to hear him ranting about him. His name was Jack Robinson and from what he had gleaned from Nick and Sara he was a complete and utter arrogant ass. He seemed to think he was Grissom most of the time. He ran scenes like he was the boss and it was grating on the other CSIs. Greg winced suddenly.

"What's up with you?" Nick asked.

"Well if he's a complete fascist with you guys then I guessing I'm pretty much screwed."

Nick smirked, clapping him on the back. "I guess you really are."

"Yeah, laugh it up, Stokes." Greg said with a flick of his brow. "From what I hear he's your new buddy." Grissom had paired Nick with him last week, much to his annoyance.

"Maybe tomorrow night he'll be your new buddy." Nick grumbled, giving Greg a dirty look.

"Nah, Grissom's already told me I'm with Catherine."

"Hopefully Ecklie will move Robinson to days. There's going to be too many of us on grave yard as it is."

"Maybe he'll just fire me." Greg said quietly. He had not meant to speak that fear out loud and regretted it immediately as Nick gave him a sharp look.

"Won't happen. Griss won't let it. Besides," He continued, "if they get rid of you and put super Jack in your place I'm moving back to Texas. I don't think I can cope with that guy much longer."

Greg was silently grateful for his show of loyalty and as they got back into the car he couldn't help but grin. It was quickly wiped off his face as Nick made a comment about him being glad to see Emily.

"Are you ever going to let that drop?" He had experienced three weeks of snide comments from both Nick and Warrick about the blonde lab technician. At first it had been funny but now it was just annoying.

"Nope. She is _so_ hot for you man." Nick said thrusting the car into gear and glancing in his rear view mirror as he backed it out of the space.

"And it is _so_ never going to happen."

"Why not? She's cute."

Greg thought briefly of Sara but shrugged his shoulders. That was a can of worms he was never going to open in front of Nick. "Just… because." He replied for want of a better reason.

"If you're shy I'll ask her out for you." he said it so seriously that for a moment Greg was actually afraid that he would. He gave him a stern glare.

"You want me to tell Grissom how much you love working with Robinson?" he threatened.

"Ok, truce." Nick said putting the car into drive and pulling out of parking lot. "Seriously though, she might be good for you."

"Lots of things are good for me, doesn't mean I have to try them."

Nick merely laughed. The next evening came around quickly. Thankfully his car had been ready for collection that morning and when he drove it to the lab it ran like a dream. It was almost worth the ridiculous amount of money it cost to have it fixed, he thought irritably

After dumping his stuff in his locker he headed down to the break room. On route he heard his name being called and turned as Grissom stepped out of his office, a file clutched in his hand. They weren't even supposed to start their shift for another thirty minutes but Grissom looked as if he had started working already. As Greg backtracked he wondered what time Grissom had actually been here since.

"Do you ever go home?" Greg asked with an amused smile. Grissom gave him a puzzled look, his brow twitching.

"Of course." He began. "How are you feeling?" Grissom asked him after a moment in his usual manner.

"I'm fine. Glad to be back."

"Are you still doing your therapy?"

"Every Wednesday." Greg told him.

"Is it helping?" He shrugged.

"Talking about it helps, sure." The older man nodded.

"Head down to the break room. I'll give assignments out at eleven."

"Ok boss."

Greg wandered down the corridor, receiving greetings as he went. Entering the break room with a grin he was surprised to see Emily at the coffee machine. She glanced up at and smiled. Greg returned it but slipped uncomfortably onto the sofa nearest the door. Ever since Nick had started the whole 'crush' thing he had begun to worry that maybe she did have feelings for him. He didn't want things to become awkward between them. Sure, he liked her. But as a friend. Silently he cursed himself for being such a flirt.

"Hey."

"Hey Emily. You on nights?" He asked, trying to think of something safe to talk about. Work seemed like the best option. Nothing could be taken the wrong way from that... he hoped.

"Days. Just grabbing a coffee before I leave so I don't fall asleep at the wheel." He nodded but didn't say anything further. In truth he didn't know what to say to her. He was so used to blabbering incessantly that he felt naked as he sat in silence, his mind surprisingly empty of anything remotely resembling a coherent thought. Finally she spoke again. "You look good. How are you?"

He shrugged. "Fine." She gave him a strange look. He knew he was being monosyllabic but he didn't want to give her the wrong impression. Knowing Greg every word that came out of his mouth would do that. Saying nothing would have served him better but he didn't want to be rude.

"You ok?" He gave a pregnant pause before replying.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

She opened her mouth to speak again but luckily for Greg, Catherine chose that moment to walk in. He could have kissed her but instead he merely smiled broadly at her. Catherine returned it easily and leaned down to peck him on the cheek.

"Nice to have you back, Greg."

"Thanks Cath."

Greg caught Emily's expression as Catherine took a seat at the table. She was frowning deeply at him, a look of hurt confusion in her eyes. He winced as she slipped out of the room wishing he had handled that better. He had not wanted to upset her. However, he had little time to dwell on it as Nick and Warrick entered, followed by the new guy, Jack Robinson. Sara was off this evening much to his disappointment. He hadn't seen her for over a week now and he desperately _wanted_ to see her. She had spent so much time with him in the hospital - and maybe he had read too much into her being there - but now he felt abandoned by her. She had only seen him twice in the weeks after his release. He wondered if he had done something to upset or annoy her. If he had Greg had no idea what it was.

He pushed her from his mind and instead turned his attention to Jack. He was in his mid thirties and had a shock of dark, curly hair. Dressed in a smart shirt and black pants he didn't have a tie on but he was wearing dress shoes. It struck Greg as strange considering they spent most of their time trampling around some of the dirtiest places in Vegas. Nick and Warrick both greeted Greg warmly before grabbing a chair, leaving Jack to study him.

"Oh, Jack, this is Greg Sanders our level one." Catherine said almost apologetically indicating she had forgotten they didn't know each other. Jack shook Greg's hand rather formally and told him he was pleased to meet him. Greg smiled and returned the gesture, catching Nick's sullen expression as he did so. He really hated this guy.

Assignments were handed out a couple of minutes later when Grissom arrived. Jack and Nick were given a homicide off the strip, Warrick and Grissom were heading to a 406 - breaking and entering - and that left Catherine and Greg with a drowning at a party. Greg sighed as he got to his feet, following Catherine out of the break room. Alcohol and pools where not a match made in heaven. He wished people would realise this.

Brass was already present to assist on the scene and had over thirty suspects rounded up around the side of the house. He greeted both Catherine and Greg with slight inclination of his head and pointed them in the direction of the crime scene. As they stepped out of the house and into the back yard Greg immediately saw the body floating face down in the water. He shined his flash light on the ground before moving any further but his attention was drawn to the group of people huddled to one side. He almost groaned aloud. He was going to have to take DNA and nail scrapings from them all. This was going to be a long night.

After him and Catherine had processed the scene Greg had spent the rest of the night in the lab helping Wendy Simms run the samples on the party guests. He was grateful that Emily had been on days. He didn't think he could hack the entire evening tiptoeing around her. This was hard enough as it was.

By the end of the shift they had discovered that the victim, a thirty-five year old woman named Elisha Adamson had been poisoned and dumped in the pool to make it look accidental. They hadn't managed to get any transfer from the vic herself due to her being in the water but Greg was hopeful that a second look at the scene might turn something up. He was glad when 8am arrived and him and Catherine could hand their findings over to the day shift.

He was just leaving the lab when he heard someone calling him. He half turned as Nick ran over to him. Like Greg he was wearing a pair of tinted sunglasses and he glanced up at the bright sky as he stepped into the tepid November air.

"Good first night back?" Nick asked. Greg yawned nodding.

"Tiring. But yeah, it was good. How did you get on with your new friend?"

Nick shrugged. "I want to kill him most of the time but he wasn't so bad last night."

"Always a bonus." Greg muttered with a slight grin as he moved over towards the parking lot. Nick reached his car first and opened the door, leaning on the frame.

"Are you in tonight?"

"Right through till 8am." Greg said more dramatically than was really necessary.

"I'll see you later then." Nick said getting into his car.

Greg absently threw his hand up in something that almost qualified as a wave as he reached his own car. Unlocking it he slipped into the driver's seat, shifting himself into a comfortable position before starting the engine up. Yawning he pulled out of the parking lot and flicked the radio on. It took him several attempts to find a station to listen to and after a while he switched it to the cd player, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as the heavy drum beat kicked in.

By the time he pulled up outside his apartment he was exhausted and definitely ready to sleep. Securing his vehicle he pushed his key into the lock and stepped into his familiar living room. Not bothering to cover his mouth as he yawned, he picked the mail up off the mat and flicked the door shut with his foot. Bills, more bills, something that looked like a tax form… he had almost given up hope of having anything worth reading until he came across the last letter. It had his name printed on the front but the postmark was local. Flipping it over he ran his finger down the back and ripped it open. Pulling the letter out he briefly scanned the content and scowled. It was just to remind him about a doctor's appointment he had in a week's time. He never received anything of interest any more, he noted moodily. Dumping the stack on the end table he wandered over to his newly acquired answer machine and noticed the light flashing. He had given up hope of ever getting his old one back, it was probably going to spend the rest of its life locked up in an evidence box, and so had purchased another one. His life was too unpredictable not to have one.

Pushing the button it barked out an electronic message to tell him he had one new message before beeping. Greg rolled his eyes and wondered who on earth decided that voice was what any person wanted from their answer machine. His thoughts were shattered however as the message began.

_"Mr Sanders. It is time." _

Greg felt his heart beat quicken. He rewound it and pressed play again. It churned the same message out. _It is time_. Knowing exactly who had sent it, he turned, intending to get out of his apartment. He wasn't willing to gamble this time. He would call the police and let them deal with it.

He had barely reached the door when he heard a noise behind him. He didn't even manage to turn his head as without warning a pain exploded across the back of his skull. His vision swam and he realised with some surprise that he had dropped to his knees. He didn't remember it happening.

He tried to rise, to turn and see his attacker but his body gave out on him. He was shaking too much to do anything. Next thing he knew he was falling, sinking into the floor, despite his best efforts not to. Waves of nausea washed over him as he blinked, trying to move the white spots that were dancing in front of him. It didn't work however.

He felt something sharp jabbing into his arm and vaguely heard his own voice moan, although it didn't sound like him. It was muffled and deeper than his voice. Darkness was creeping into his peripheral vision already, consuming him with every second that passed and face down on the carpet his last memory was a sickly sweet smell that lingered in the air like a poison.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Twenty **

He awoke to a blinding headache. Throwing his blankets off, Nick staggered across his bedroom and into the bathroom, dragging the medicine cabinet open. He rooted around for a moment until he located the bottle of aspirin and headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. That had been at two o'clock in the afternoon. By ten to eight that evening it was still niggling beneath his brow.

He had made his way down to the conference room to receive his assignment for that evening. Warrick, Sara and Catherine had found him with his head on the table, his eyes closed and immediately began fussing over him.

He rubbed at his temple, his eyes tightly shut, as he blindly shoved another two pills into his mouth, taking the mug from Catherine.

"You should go home." She looked worried.

"I'm fine." Nick said placing it back on the table.

"You're not going to be much use if you can't even see straight, Nick." Sara pointed out.

"It's passing,"

Truthfully it wasn't as bad as it had been but it was still sat just behind his eyes, aching dully. At least now he could focus and he didn't feel nauseous any more. The discussion came quickly to an end as Grissom entered with Jack. He glanced around the room, his eyes taking in Nick, Catherine, Sara and Warrick in one sweep.

"Where's Greg?" Grissom asked.

"Probably doing his hair." Warrick said it so seriously that everyone laughed apart from Grissom.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked noticing Nick.

"Unofficially, a headache. According to Catherine, a brain tumor." Grissom looked momentarily amused, his brow quirking as Catherine scowled at him.

"Is it going to affect your work?"

"I doubt it."

"Good." Grissom glanced at his watch. "Let's get this started. We've got an explosion in Henderson. Three homes involved. Multiple vics. We're all working this one."

Nick couldn't help but grin at that. It meant he wouldn't have to work with Jack alone. This evening was looking better by the minute.

"Any idea what caused the explosion?" Sara asked, taking a sip on her coffee.

"Fire investigators are down there now but with a blast this big I'd guess it was a gas leak." Grissom answered. "Let's get going. Nick? Wait for Greg and follow us down." He threw a set of keys at him which Nick completely missed. Warrick laughed, patting him on the shoulder as he moved to leave the room.

"Nice catch man."

"I've got a headache!" He called after him but he could still hear him laughing up the corridor.

Nick waited in the conference room for a while before he glanced up at the clock and pushed himself to his feet. It was nearly half past eight. Greg should have been here by now. He was usually the first person on shift, aside from Grissom who seemed to live in the lab. He headed up to the locker room expecting to see him rushing around, flustered. It was empty however. Frowning he wandered down and checked in the labs, wondering if he had got talking.

"Hey, Archie." He said as he stuck his head into the AV lab. "You seen Greg?"

"Not since last night." Archie answered, not taking his eyes off the monitor.

Nick frowned, thanking him before wandering down to the reception desk. Judy was sat talking on the phone. Nick waited patiently, twisting his ID badge in his fingers. After a moment she hung up and glanced expectantly at him.

"Has Greg signed it yet?"

Judy clicked a couple of buttons on her computer and shook her head. "Not yet."

"Call him please. See where he's got to."

Picking up the telephone she dialled his number. "It's going straight through to voicemail." She said putting it down. "Do you want me to try his home number?" Nick nodded but that didn't yield a better response either. Puzzled and now a little worried Nick pulled his cell out and dialled Grissom as he moved away from reception.

_"Grissom."_ The familiar voice spoke down the phone.

"Hey, it's Nick." Before he had a chance to explain Grissom jumped in.

_"Are you on your way? I need you both down here now." _

"Greg still hasn't turned up." There was a long pause.

_"You called him?" _

"No answer on his cell or landline."

_"Stop by his apartment and pick him up. Maybe he's having car trouble again." _

"Sure."

_"Oh and Nick?" _

"Yeah?"

_"Be quick." _

Nick hung up and headed out to the parking lot, fiddling with the keys to the denali. Get into the silver SUV he drove to the other side of town. It took him no more than fifteen minutes to reach Greg's apartment and pulling up outside he jumped out of the car, wandering over to his door. Dusk was just beginning to encroach on the skyline, casting a murky din, and dirty reds and oranges painting the horizon in messy brush strokes. As he approached the building he frowned, noticing the door was ajar. Cautiously he pushed it open with his foot but remained on the doorstep.

"Greg?" He called out.

The apartment was pitch black inside, straining his eyes he tried to see something, anything but it was too dark. Nick half reached for his gun but paused. He had a really bad feeling about this.

"Greg?" He tried again. Getting no answer he reached his hand around the side of door frame and fumbled for the light switch. Finally locating it he flicked it up.

The living room was suddenly bathed in light. Nick's stomach dropped as his eyes moved around the scene. It was a mess. A lamp was broken, laid on its side, the bulb smashed across the floor. Signs of a struggle were apparent everywhere Nick looked. Subconsciously he took a step forward and felt something wet under his feet. Dropping his gaze he moved back and took a shuddering breath. The carpet was stained with what could only be blood. Nick had seen enough crime scenes to recognize it. It was only a small patch but there were drips coming off it towards the door. Nick's trained eye knew immediately what it meant. Greg had received an injury and then tried to move towards the door to escape his attacker. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he pulled his gun free of his holster, raising it and dragged his radio from his waist.

"Control this is CSI Nick Stokes."

_"This is control." _A voice answered after a moment.

"Requesting immediate back up to 3274 Fernlea Drive." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I've got a missing CSI."

* * *

"You found anything?" 

Sara glanced up as Warrick stuck his head around the door. He glanced around, dropping his hands to his hips, a defeated look on his face. Sara understood how he felt. She was close to giving up herself. The scene was a mess.

What had once been a kitchen was now nothing more than a bomb site. The walls were charred black. In fact everything was covered in a layer of thick soot. It made finger printing or finding any sort of useable evidence impossible. Sara had spent a frustrating hour crawling around on her hands and knees searching for anything that might have caused the explosion. So far nothing had come up.

"I could spend a week in here and still find nothing." She grumbled.

"I guess that means you want some help?"

She gave him a grateful nod. "You want to start over by the back door?"

"Sure thing." He said, pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket and dragging them on. "I don't envy the guy who has to clean all this crap up." He muttered.

"Be thankful its not you." She said with a slight laugh.

"Oh, I am." He sighed deeply. "We just have to wade through all this dust and find something useable."

They both looked up as Grissom appeared in the doorway. His expression was troubled. Sara knew immediately something was wrong.

"What's happened?" She asked, giving him her full attention.

Grissom didn't speak straight away. It only enhanced Sara's anxiety further.

"Grissom?" Warrick spoke, getting to his feet slowly, his brow furrowing.

"I need everyone back to the lab now." Grissom said finally. "Greg's missing."

* * *

His head felt fuzzy, drunk almost. He tried to open his eyes but it was too painful. Instead he concentrated on taking slow deep breaths. The back of his head throbbed and his chest felt tight. Everything ached. He risked opening his eyes and realised his face was covered with something. It smelt musty, he almost gagged on it. 

He was frightened. He felt naked without his sight. He turned his head slowly to the side hoping he might be able to make out a light or something through the blindfold but he saw nothing. He was clouded in blackness. Vaguely he remembered what had happened. The voice on the answer machine. The noise that had caught his attention and then the blinding pain as something struck the back of his head. After that he didn't remember a thing.

As his head began to clear he became more aware of his surroundings. Using his other senses he tried to work out where he was. He could feel he was sat on a hard wooden chair. His hands were tied behind the back of it. His shoulders ached from being in that position and he surmised he had been sat here for a while. He tried to break free of the restraints but as he moved he felt metal biting into his skin, warm liquid trickling down his wrists. With an odd sense of detachment he realised he was bound with some kind of wire.

His face was bruised. He knew that without being able to see it. He dropped his head on his chest as a wave of nausea swept over him, willing his stomach to be still. It was a couple of minutes before it passed but his head was swimming. It felt heavy, like lead. He could barely keep it upright.

He turned his head at the sound of metal screeching in front of him. His heart raced as he tried to figure out what it was. It sounded like a lock being pulled back but from the sound of it he realised it must have been a big bolt. Through his blind fold he could see light, then footsteps, walking slowly towards him. He heard something being put down and assumed it was the light source as it stopped moving but the footsteps came closer. His stomach knotted tightly at that sound. It was the most terrifying thing he had ever heard. He had no idea what was going on but he wanted answers. Finding the courage, Greg tried to speak but it took him a couple of attempts to make his mouth work.

"W… where am I?" he slurred. Talking was difficult, painful even. His throat burned and was dry. He longed for water. Vaguely he knew he had been drugged. Thinking was difficult, impossible almost and his mind was blurry. It was a similar sensation he had had when he had been given strong painkillers after his stabbing. It was like being drunk. He waited for an answer but silence was the only response. It only heightened his fear.

"Please." Greg mumbled, lowering his head back onto his chest. He felt so tired. He longed to close his eyes and sleep but the cold feeling of impending doom kept him awake.

"You're somewhere safe." The unfamiliar voice spoke. It was male with a southern drawl but Greg couldn't place it to a particular region.

"What did you give me?" Greg asked slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. It wasn't really important at this point but he wanted to keep him talking, hoping he could discover the identity of his abductor.

"A sedative. It will wear off soon." The voice said calmly. Greg took a shuddering breath.

"What's… what's going to… to happen… now?" Greg wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to this question but part of him need to know his fate. He wanted to be prepared. If he was going to die, it was better to know.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise."

Greg swallowed hard, hoping it would create some saliva. His mouth was so dry. The chemist part of his mind knew it was probably an after affect of the drug he had been given. It didn't make it any easier knowing that. The man moved closer and Greg tried to lean back into the chair. It was the only thing he could do to distance himself from his abducter. It was reduntant however. He was tied to a chair. There was no escape. He knew he was going to die. There was no way he was getting out of this alive. His last thought as unbearable pain struck his left side was of Sara.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** ok because I'm an actual idiot who cant count (LOL) I have mis-numbered my chapters! D'OH! Mmmm and I go to university because??? laugh it up kids, I'm the future of this country! So this is actually chapter twenty. Sorry if I confused you, you have no idea how much I confused myself! I have chapter twenty one written and ready to post so I'll possibly post that shortly. Enjoy! Thanks to everyone who reviewed as usual. Cookies for you all!

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**Chapter Twenty **

It had been two hours since Greg had been declared missing. The entire team was sweeping his apartment looking for anything that would give them a clue as to where he was. So far they had turned up nothing. The answer machine tape had gone back to the lab to be analysed but no one was hopeful that anything would turn up from that. It hadn't the last time.

Sara was meticulously lifting prints off the front door frame hoping they would get lucky and find one of the suspects. She expected they would all come back as Greg's but she had a small spark of hope. She flipped the plastic cover over the print sheet and placed it carefully in an evidence bag with the other dozen sheets she had already collected. She couldn't believe this was happening. In many ways she was kicking herself for not seeing this coming. They had all pushed Greg's case out of their minds. With no evidence it had been a dead end. Even so she felt guilty that they hadn't persisted. Maybe they would have eventually turned something up. A partial print, trace, a fibre. Anything. They had given up on Greg and now he was missing. The only information they had was a spatter of blood on the floor by the entrance and the machine message. Sara shuddered. It had sounded so final. _It is time. _Time for what? What was this lunatic doing to him? She bit on her lower lip, trying to keep her emotions under control. She needed to focus on her task but she was finding it increasingly difficult.

She raised her head and studied Catherine who was analysing the blood on the floor, Greg's blood. She appeared to be lost in her job but Sara noticed a subtle change in the woman. She was quieter than she usually was on cases. Everyone was. In fact no one had spoken since they had arrived on the scene. There was nothing to say. They were all hoping they would find a tiny piece of evidence that would tell them who had Greg but the odds were stacked against them. It made it harder knowing that. Catherine stood slowly, pulling the cap over the top of the swab she had just been using and bagged it.

"You found anything?" The blonde haired woman asked.

"Lots of prints, but I'm guessing they're all Greg's."

Catherine didn't saying anything. Obviously she thought the same thing.

"Well I've checked the back door and all the windows. No sign of forced entry." Warrick muttered as he entered from the hallway, a bag in his hand. He had evidently printed as much as was physically possible. The techs in the lab were going to love them when they got back. They had about three bags worth of stuff just from the living room. They had been overly thorough. No one wanted to miss anything.

"Weird." Catherine mused. "Nick found the front door open but from the blood spatter it looks as if Greg entered his apartment, and then turned back towards the door."

"Meaning the attacker was already inside." Sara concluded with a frown. "So how the hell did this guy get in?"

"Must have a key." Warrick answered, glancing around the room.

"If this guy has a key then doesn't that suggest it's someone who has direct contact with Greg?" Catherine said slowly, looking between the two of them.

"You mean a friend or-" He broke off.

"Someone at the lab?" Sara asked incredulously. "That's insane."

"But not impossible." Catherine countered. "How else do you explain how this guy knew Greg's shift patterns?"

"It doesn't necessarily point to an inside job." Sara argued.

"I'm beginning to think it might." Warrick said quietly.

"That makes us all suspects." Sara shook her head. This was ridiculous.

"There are over a hundred of us working in the lab alone. From CSIs to techs, right down to the mail guys and the domestic staff. Maybe one of them has a problem with Greg." Catherine muttered. Warrick rubbed a hand over his chin.

"It's possible." He conceded, clearly hoping she was wrong. "I'll get Brass and Sofia to look into it."

Warrick slipped passed the two women and headed outside. For a moment Sara and Catherine stood in silence, their eyes locked onto one another.

"You don't seriously think it's someone in the lab." Sara asked.

"I'm not ruling it out."

They had nothing and Catherine was clutching at straws. At least that was how Sara saw it. She couldn't imagine anyone at work doing something like this to Greg. He was well liked by everyone. It was hard not to like him. He was always happy, always had a good word to say to everybody he spoke to. He was a people person.

"He's had a few problems with Adrienne." Sara said finally trying to work through Catherine's theory.

"Not enough to warrant this." Catherine replied.

That was true but Sara shook her head. "Sometimes it doesn't take much." She countered. "Ecklie's got to be giving her a whole load of trouble over the farmhouse incident."

"She got a three day suspension." Catherine muttered, her lip curling slightly. She was still obviously pissed about the fact Adrienne had been directly responsible for her own suspension. "Besides I spoke to her after. She wasn't angry with anyone but herself."

"So she told you." Sara said pointedly.

Catherine shook her head. "This started weeks before that happened anyway."

Sara pulled a wry face. "We hardly made her feel welcome. It's enough to piss anyone off being constantly compared to Greg. Not to mention the first week we all checked her work like she was rookie."

"That doesn't make her a psychopath."

"You started this. I'm just looking at the evidence."

"Do you have evidence for this?"

"No." Sara admitted.

Grissom and Nick entered from the hallway. Nick looked flustered, irritated, and worried all at the same time. Grissom was stoic as always.

"Are you done in here?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah." Catherine said glancing at Sara who also nodded.

"Let's get back to the lab. I want everyone working on what we've collected." Grissom ordered. Sara grabbed her kit and followed the others out to the SUVs. She was anxious to work up what she had processed.

The drive back seemed to take forever and Sara opened the car door before Nick had even fully stopped. She headed straight up to the print lab and immediately got to work. Jacqui was already there and helped her sort through the multitude of prints they had collected. There was none of the usual banter. They both worked in silence. They knew what was at stake.

After an hour or so she left Jacqui to carry on running the prints through IAFIS and went to find the others. So far all the prints they had run had come up as Greg's. It was frustrating. Sara wanted to know what everyone else had found, hoping they had had more luck. She found Catherine in the DNA lab with Emily. The blonde tech seemed subdued. It was understandable. The tension was unbearable. Everyone was fearing the worst.

"You got anything?" Sara asked. Catherine shrugged.

"The blood is definitely Greg's. The swabs and prints taken from the answer machine haven't given anything. How you getting on with the prints?"

"So far they're all Greg's."

Sara glanced over at the other scope. Mia was clamped to it. It seemed like everyone had been called in tonight.

"What about the tape?" Sara asked, dragging her eyes back to Catherine.

"Warrick and Archie are going over it now."

"Where's Grissom and Nick?"

"Nick's in trace with Hodges. Gil's conducting interviews with Brass."

Sara nodded and left, heading down to the interview room. She didn't know what else to do with herself. They had so little to go on and now it became a waiting game. The techs would let them know when they had results in. She slipped into the viewing room and gazed through the one way glass. Grissom was sat at the table with the captain. Across from them was Adrienne West.

"You and Greg get on ok?" Brass was asking her. Adrienne gave him a confused look.

"As well as two people can who've only known each other for a couple of weeks."

"You don't have any bad feelings towards him? I mean, I've read the statement he gave about the stabbing. He didn't paint you in a good light."

She shrugged. "Did you read my statement? I readily admitted I messed up that day."

"How did you feel about your suspension?" Brass pressed.

"I deserved it. I'm kind of surprised Conrad didn't give me my pink slip."

"You and Greg have any other altercations?"

She scowled, glancing between the two men. "Am I a suspect in this or something?"

"We're talking to everyone." Grissom assured her calmly.

"Really?" Her tone was sardonic. "You know this kinda feels like a witch hunt." She crossed her arms over her chest, sinking back into her seat. "I didn't do this."

"No one said you did." Brass replied blandly.

"You didn't have to. The interrogation kinda gives it away."

"Hey, we're just talking here."

"I don't know what happened to Greg." She maintained. "I came in to help. Then you drag me in here and start levelling all sorts of accusations at me. Yes, Greg and I got off to a bad start, but that doesn't mean I hurt him. If I had do you really think I would be stupid enough to come into the lab? Are we done here?"

Brass flicked his eyes at Grissom. "Yeah. We're done."

"Great." She got to her feet. "I know I'm the new girl and obviously I'm number one on the suspect list but there is no way I would hurt him. Even if I wanted to do you really think I could? Greg is twice the size of me, not to mention the fact I'm recovering from multiple stab wounds. I can barely drag myself around let alone a grown man." She took a shuddering breath as she left the room. For a moment Brass and Grissom sat in silence.

"She didn't do it." Grissom said finally.

"I know. She was sure as hell defensive for someone who's not guilty though."

"Its frustrating being accused of something you haven't done." Grissom concluded.

"This is a wild goose chase." Brass muttered. "No one has motive."

"Sometimes motive isn't always necessary Jim."

Sara turned and left at that point. She had heard enough. Heading back up to the labs she found Nick sat in one of the empty rooms. He was pouring over the photographs from Greg's wall. He half acknowledged her as she entered with a slight nod of his head.

"I'm trying to find something we might have missed." Nick explained, not taking his eyes off the photograph he was studying.

"Any luck?"

"So far? No."

"You want some help?" She asked, noticing he still had an enormous stack to go through.

"Sure."

She grabbed a pile of pictures, picked one off the top and began scrupulously examining every inch of it. Finding nothing, she put it to one side and picked up another. After a while she had a small stack of them but nothing of any use. She felt disturbed as she looked at each one. There were pictures of Greg on the sidewalk, out side of shops, even one of him at the garage getting his car fixed. She shuddered. It was creepy. Catherine appeared suddenly. She was smiling.

"We've got a hair. It's not Greg's."

Sara blinked. "You run through CODIS yet?"

"Mia's just doing it. Fingers crossed this bastard's on the system."

Sara couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. She glanced at Nick who was wearing a similar expression. It was the first piece of hope they had been given. If CODIS threw a suspect out they were a step closer to finding Greg. As Catherine headed out, Sara immediately noticed a change in the atmosphere. Nick seemed to lose some of the tension he had previously manifested.

"What do you make of all this?" She asked.

"I'm not sure." Nick paused, pulling a thoughtful expression. "I'm kind of with Cath about the whole inside job thing. I mean, Greg had his locks changed so someone must have had access to his keys. I just wish we knew more." he said with a sigh.

"DNA might turn something up."

"Mmmhm." Nick mumbled already turning back to the photograph with renewed hope. She turned back to her own pile and continued sifting through them.

"Sara, I think I've got something." He sounded excited.

"What?" She moved instantly closer to him for a better look. The photograph was of Greg in a small café. It was difficult to tell from first looks but on closer inspection she noticed something.

"Is that…?"

"A reflection." Nick exclaimed, clearly wondering how it had been missed the first time.

"It must have been taken through a window… a car maybe…"

Nick got to his feet. "I'm going to scan this into the computer."

Sara was behind him before he even asked her to join him. Things were definitely looking better.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One **

Greg was in agony. He had never felt pain like it. Even his stabbing didn't compare to this. He had no idea what he had been struck with but his shirt felt damp and clung to his side like a second skin. He knew it was saturated with blood. He had passed out at some point and when he came round he knew he was alone. He had been for what seemed like hours. He wasn't sure if it was worse being on his own or having his attacker here. He had no idea what was going to happen to him and thanks to his eyes being bound he had no idea where he was.

Wherever he was being kept the air was close. Humid and dry. Thick and stagnant. He shivered uncontrollably. He wondered if he was in shock. He was trying desperately to remember the voice of his captor. It was all that was keeping awake at the moment. He didn't want to fall asleep. He was afraid he wouldn't wake up again. He pulled against his restraints again but it was unproductive. His wrists were tightly bound and all he achieved was to rub his skin raw. He lowered his head onto his chest and wondered how much more of this he could take. He felt as if he had been here for days, although it had only been five and a half hours. Not that he knew that. Time had no meaning in his dark prison.

He wondered if anyone had noticed he was missing yet. He should have been in work hours ago. He had a small spark of hope that they would find him but it was short lived. He tried to keep hold of it knowing he couldn't give in to despair but it was so difficult. He had worked on many abduction cases. The first five hours were critical. After that you were looking for a dead body. Greg wished he could see his watch. He wanted to know how long he had been here for.

He heard the bolt sliding back and the fear he now associated with that sound. Last time he had heard it all he remembered was pain. He tried to stop himself shaking but his body had developed a mind of its own. He swallowed hard, mentally preparing himself for what was going to come.

"You're awake." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah…" Greg mumbled. He felt like he should be dead.

"Good."

He heard him move closer and willed himself to be strong. He didn't want this guy to see him fall apart.

"Why are you doing this?" Greg's voice broke as he spoke.

He didn't answer straight away. "We all have things we have to atone for."

The statement confused Greg. "I'm really trying to understand why I'm here."

This seemed to anger him and Greg felt a sharp pain shoot down his legs as something hard struck him.

"Have you committed any sins lately Mr Sanders!" He roared.

Greg had tried not to cry out, to be strong but he couldn't help it. It had been unexpected, caught him off guard. He lowered his head again and took deep shuddering breaths, biting on his lip so hard that he drew blood.

He continued speaking but Greg was barely listening. He was desperately trying to stay awake but his mind kept winking in and out of consciousness. He felt a hand slap him across the cheek and roused himself. This guy wanted him awake for this.

"Sin... It's a strange thing. Jesus died for our sins. Was crucified. Have you ever thought how it would feel? Having six inch nails driven through your hands and feet? Piercing the skin, through to the bone." There was a sadistic excitement in his voice as he paced back and forth in front of Greg. "The agony of hanging there, suffocating to death. The pressure in your chest as your lungs collapse in on themselves."

Greg wondered where he was going with this. He was terrified.

"What do you think your CSI friends would make of that?"

"I don't know." Greg mumbled, trying to stop his voice from trembling but he failed. He had no idea what this guy was capable of.

"I bet you've seen disturbing things. Brains blown all over room, limbs hacked off, charred bodies. Bet you never thought you would become a crime scene yourself. Your colleagues are going to spend the next few days picking up little bits of you and putting it in clear plastic bags."

Greg felt sick. His stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. He realised he was going to suffer. This guy wasn't going to make his passing easy. He heard the cold grating of metal and heard his own breath come out raggedly. He was going to die.

"Please…" Greg begged. He had sworn to himself that he would be strong but he was too frightened now. He sounded like a pathetic child pleading for his own life but he didn't care.

"Please?" The voice growled, his pacing stopping. "You're asking for mercy?"

"Y…yes…"

The voice laughed a dark guttural sound. It chilled Greg to the bone. Suddenly his left arm burnt as a sharp blade cut deeply into his flesh. He tried to pull away as the pain intensified but he was fastened too securely in the chair. Blood dripped onto the floor like a tap that hadn't been turned off properly. Greg scrunched his eyes tightly closed and for the first time in his life he prayed to god. He hoped he was listening.

"You are here because of _your_ actions." His attacker said in a low voice.

"Demetrius James." Greg said in a flat voice, realisation hitting him like a lightning bolt. Things were beginning to fall into place and he didn't like where they were falling.

"You killed him and you walked. You were allowed to go back to your normal life, your job, your friends. I had to pick up the pieces of what you did. You were slapped on the wrists and given a second chance. There was no second chance for Demetrius. You took that from him the day you pounded him under the wheels of your car."

"He was beating an innocent man to death." Greg muttered thickly, his brain and mouth were seemingly running at different speeds.

"There's no such thing as an innocent man!" The voice snapped. "Everyone has demons. Sins they're privately atoning for."

"How... how do you know Demetrius?" Greg wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction. He was getting angry and anger equalled pain for Greg.

"He was my best friend!" His attacker shouted. "I honestly thought the law would punish you, but evidently that was too much to expect."

"I never meant to kill him." Greg said quietly.

"But you did kill him. You murdered him in cold blood. Why should you be allowed to get on with your life?"

Greg wasn't sure how to answer that without being hurt and so remained silent. His arm felt like it was on fire and his side was throbbing. He wanted this to end. He almost wanted him to kill him just so it would be over with. His mind began to empty as dizziness swept over him. He was close to passing out. He longed to do so. At least then he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. A hand grabbed his face again, his grip bordering on crushingly painful.

"Stay awake."

Greg nearly laughed at that. He didn't have any control over his body anymore.

"This is all about revenge?" Greg forced each word out, speaking slowly.

"This is about justice."

"W…why the doll… and the photos?"

"I wanted you to be afraid."

Greg fell silent. He was afraid. He wanted it to be over.

"Are you scared?" the voice asked, smacking his cheek again, clearly thinking he had passed out. Greg winced as he raised his head a little.

"Yes." He reluctantly admitted. Greg took a deep breath. "H…how does this end?"

"For you? Not so good." He laughed a sharp bark. "You're going to die slowly. Bleeding out a drip at a time. If your friends ever find where you are you'll be dead before they even set foot in here."

Greg cringed. He didn't want them to find him like this.

"Even if they find you, believe me when I tell you they're looking for a needle in a haystack. They could spend a month down here before they found you. By then it will be too late. Good bye Mr Sanders."

"Please… don't leave me here." Greg slurred out the words in desperation.

He heard his footsteps moving away from him and then the sound of metal scraping as the huge sounding bolt was slid back into place. Greg strained his ears for a moment, hoping he was coming back but as the minutes passed he realised he wasn't going to. He was alone again and he was bleeding slowly. He was going to die. Greg tried to hold it together but he couldn't. He squeezed his lids tightly shut but it wasn't enough to stop the salty tears escaping from his eyes and like a broken man he sobbed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two **

Nick drummed his fingers on the desk whilst Archie scanned the picture into the computer. He yawned rubbing his eyes. His head was still aching but he had managed to put that from his mind in the light of recent events. Sara was chewing on her nails. They were all resting their hopes on this picture.

Finally it was uploaded and Archie clicked the mouse a couple of times zooming into the spot that Nick pointed out. It took a minute to come into focus but when it did the three of them sat in stunned silence. Nick finally spoke.

"Print me a copy." He muttered. Archie complied, not making a sound as he handed it to him once it had emerged in the print tray. Nick leaned over and studied it momentarily before picking up the phone on the desk.

"This is Nick Stokes. I need to speak to Gil Grissom." He paused listening to the response. "I don't care if he's interviewing, this won't wait." He flicked his eyes back down to the picture feeling more than a little sick. It was the most disturbed Nick had been in a long time. After a couple of minutes Grissom answered.

_"Nick?" _

"Griss, we have got a major problem." Nick quickly relayed what they had found. Grissom didn't speak for a moment.

_"Is she still in the lab?" _

"I don't know." Nick answered.

_"I'm coming up with Brass and a couple of uniforms. Don't let her leave." _

Nick hung up and got to his feet. Sara half grabbed his arm as he slid passed hers and Archie's chairs.

"What are you doing?" her expression was a mixture of concern and anger. She wasn't annoyed with him, just the situation. None of them could believe who was in that picture.

"Griss said not to let her leave."

"I'm coming with you."

"No. If we all go storming in there she'll know something's wrong. I don't want to give her the chance to leave."

Nick turned and walked out before she had the opportunity to argue with him. Quickly, but with out drawing attention to himself, he wandered down the main corridor, searching each room as he went. He found her in the DNA lab. In fact most of the team were in there. Nick knew they were all waiting for the hair to come back with a result but it didn't make it any easier. Catherine, Emily, Adrienne and Mia all glanced up as he entered. He hadn't wanted the other three to be present. This could get ugly.

"You ok, Nicky?" Catherine asked with a small frown.

"Yeah." He said after a moment, hoping it didn't sound too forced. "This whole situation is driving me crazy."

He tried to act naturally as he leaned against the table. It wasn't easy. She was stood two feet from him. He wanted to shake her until she told him where Greg was but he knew Grissom would kill him if he did. He was probably already on his way down with Brass. He wished he would hurry up.

"You got a hit through CODIS yet?" He asked, keeping his eyes firmly on Catherine. He was afraid what he would do if he looked at her.

"Still running." She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Nick tried to think of a way to get them all out of the lab without raising suspicion but there was no way.

"I got a couple of prints off his answer machine." Adrienne told him, wrinkling her brow. "I'm pretty sure they're Greg's but Jacqui is running them now."

Nick nodded turning to Catherine. She needed to know what was happening here. "Can I have a word?"

If she was confused she didn't show it as she followed him just outside the lab. Nick glanced through the glass walls making sure he still had her in his sight. He wasn't going to lose her now. Quietly and quickly he told her what they had found. Catherine's face dropped. Nick knew how she felt, he had felt the same. Nauseous.

He shifted his gaze from her and back to the lab and swore. Catherine turned and also let out a curse. She had gone. Both Adrienne and Mia looked at them confused.

"Where's Emily?" Nick demanded, panicked.

"She said she was taking a break." Adrienne said baffled by his tone.

"Find her Adrienne, don't let her leave." She gave him an even more confused look. "She's on the pictures from Greg's apartment."

Her expression changed dramatically and in less than a second she was already on her feet heading through the other door as Catherine and Nick fanned out. Catherine began searching the rooms along the corridor but Nick was running for the exit. He pulled his gun out of his holster, grateful that he hadn't thought to put it back in his locker after coming back from Greg's apartment, and ran up to a panic-stricken Judy. She eyed his weapon, clearly thinking he had gone mad.

"Has Emily Wade come through here?"

Judy nodded, still focusing on the gun.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, banging his palm on the top of the desk. Judy shrank back into her chair as Nick turned back to her. "Put a lock on her ID pass. Now!" He pulled his radio from his waist and turned it to the right channel whilst setting off at break neck speed.

"Grissom?"

_"Nick? You all right?" _

"She's left the building. I'm going after her."

_"No, Nicky, wait for back up." _

Nick shook his head and ignored him. There was no way he was letting her get out of the parking lot. She had information that could help them find Greg and right now that was all he cared about. He flew out into the cold night air and glanced around the crowded cars.

There was only one way in and out of the employee's car park and that was through the barrier, providing she had driven out. He couldn't imagine her walking to be honest. She knew she needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

His gun lowered to his side but ready to fire, he carefully walked down the cars, his eyes searching. He knew he wasn't a great shot but he only had to do enough to stop her leaving.

His heart was pounding but he didn't have time for fear as he heard an engine rev and a large red SUV pull out of a spot across from where he was stood now. Nick ran. He moved faster than he had thought humanly possible and threw himself in front of the vehicle, raising his gun. It skidded to a halt just before clipping his legs. Nick tried to stop his hands from trembling as he looked through the front windscreen but it was impossible. He saw a pale faced Emily staring back at him. She looked equally as terrified.

"Move Nick!"

"Get out of the car and put your hands behind your head!" He growled, holding his ground, his weapon still levelled at her.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Emily, get out of the car!" he repeated.

In a split second everything changed. Emily made a decision. She rammed the car into gear and pushed the accelerator as hard as she could. Nick didn't have time to react. He felt the pain as the car hit him and next thing he knew he was on the ground. His chest was aching as were his legs but he tried push his pain aside and move. He still needed to stop her but his body remained stubbornly still.

As the car revved again all he could do was watch. He was lying in the middle of the driveway. He was the only thing that stood between her and the entrance. Realising what she was about to do he tried to reach for his gun, intending to shoot the tires out, but the slightest movement made him dizzy. He closed his eyes tightly, steeling himself for the pain to come. All he could do was hope that Judy had locked her ID pass down so she wouldn't be able to get through the barrier. Grissom would be here soon. He could at least get answers out of her.

Then he heard gunshots. He had only heard shots a handful of times outside of the ballistics lab but he recognized the sound immediately. It rang angrily into the night and turning his head to the side he glanced along the tarmac and saw Adrienne stood with her gun raised at the car.

And then it was chaos. Brass and several uniforms appeared from nowhere screaming orders. Within seconds they had dragged Emily from the car, bending her over the hood as they hand cuffed her. Nick closed his eyes, silently relieved and concentrated on taking deep breaths. His chest was aching.

He was roused by a familiar voice. When he opened them Catherine and Grissom came into focus. They both looked worried.

"We heard gunshots." Catherine sounded like she was on the edge of hysteria.

"I'm not shot." Nick mumbled wanting to alleviate her fears, his hand pressing to his side. "Car hit me."

Grissom pulled his radio out and requested a medic. Nick was hurt but he realised he was probably more in shock than anything else. He tried to sit but both Catherine and Grissom gently pushed him back down.

"Stay still Nick." Grissom ordered him gently.

"Where is she?"

"Brass has taken her inside."

Nick nodded, genuinely glad that she had been apprehended. It was worth being in pain for that. She could give them answers. She was on that photograph. She had something to do with Greg's disappearance and whatever it was Grissom would find it out. He sighed deeply as Warrick appeared in his line of sight, dropping to his knees beside his body, his face lined with worry.

"Damn Nick, what the hell have you done to yourself?"

Nick laughed in spite of everything but wished he hadn't as he began coughing.

"Sorry, man." Warrick apologised.

"Find Greg." Nick told them. They were wasting time sitting with him. Grissom and Catherine exchanged glances, neither wanting to leave him but Warrick spoke.

"I'll stay with him."

They both got to their feet and headed inside leaving Nick and Warrick alone.

"She knows were he is." Nick muttered.

"I know buddy, I know." Warrick gazed around. "Where's the damn EMT?" He snapped under his breath. Nick grabbed his arm tightly. Warrick lowered his eyes to him.

"War? You gotta find him."

"We will Nicky." Warrick told him.

"You don't know what it's like, thinking your gonna die. Not knowing if anyone's coming for you."

His own voice sounded different. Low and filled with emotion. Nick had tried not to think about his past but it was difficult. This situation was so similar. He wondered if the team had felt this helpless when he had been abducted and buried alive. Warrick winced too. He remembered that day all too well.

"He's not going to die." Warrick assured him.

"I knew that bitch was crazy." Nick muttered between clenched teeth, gripping his aching side.

"No you didn't." Warrick counted, sounding amused. "You were trying to get her and Greg together."

Nick laughed under his breath. "Yeah remind me never to play at matchmaking again."

Warrick visibly relaxed. If Nick was joking then he couldn't be hurt that badly.

"Yeah it's a fricking Greek tragedy." Nick fell silent.

"Adrienne ok?" He asked finally.

"Yeah."

"She pretty much saved my life." He admitted.

"Well you can thank her later."

At that moment the EMT came screaming in. Warrick got slowly to his feet and moved aside as the two medics began examining Nick. Within minutes he was on a gurney and inside the rig. Warrick started to climb in but Nick shook his head.

"Find Greg."

"Nicky-"

"I'll be fine, War. Just bring Greg home."

Somewhat reluctantly Warrick stepped back and watched as the back doors of the EMT were shut and drove off, the sirens whirring. He knew Nick would be ok but it didn't stop him worrying. He turned and walked back into the crime lab. They had find Greg. He wasn't going to rest until they did.

* * *

Grissom and Brass were conducting the interview but Catherine, Warrick, Sara, Jack and Adrienne were all watching from the viewing room. Emily was sat on the opposite side of the table, chewing on her nails, her head lowered. Brass pushed the picture that Archie had enlarged in front of her. She moved her eyes to it briefly before looking away.

"Where is he, Emily?" Brass asked, his tone angry, pacing the room with short steps. She didn't speak, just continued to chew on her nails.

"You want a shovel?" Brass gave her a dark glare. "Right now all you're doing is digging yourself a bigger hole. You're already facing stalking charges, resisting arrest, abduction, attempted murder… you're going down for a long time."

She glanced up at him. "I didn't mean to hurt Nick." She mumbled, lowering her eyes again.

"Yeah? Well you did. Kind of what happens when you run an SUV into someone."

Her expression changed suddenly, her lip curling. "I hit Nick with a car and get attempted murder. Greg gets a civil suit and a slap on the wrists." She snorted a laugh. "And that's the state's idea of justice?"

"Just tell me where he is. Make it easier on yourself." She laughed but didn't speak. Brass gave her a dirty look. "You think this is funny?"

"No." She answered looking him in the eyes.

"Emily," Grissom spoke for the first time. "Sometimes we do things that get out of hand and we think there's no going back but there is. You like Greg, don't you?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes. "I like Greg a lot."

"Then help him. If you know where he is tell us."

She picked at her nails, nervously. "I can't."

"Please Emily." Grissom said softly. "The blood we found in the apartment is Greg's. He could be seriously injured. I'm sure you don't want anything to happen to him."

"He promised he wouldn't hurt him." she said in barely a whisper.

"Who?"

"Michael." She dragged her fingers over her cheeks, wiping the tears away. "He said he just wanted to scare him. I didn't think he would-" She glanced down, her hair falling over her face.

"Do you know where Michael took him?"

She shook her head.

"How do you know him?" Brass asked, finally sitting down.

"He's… he's my cousin." She sobbed.

From that point it all came out. She told them he was friends with Demetrius, had been since they were five years old, and how upset he had been over loosing him. When he had learnt that Emily worked with Greg he had managed to persuade her to help him. She was close to her cousin by the sound of it and had done as he asked. She had moved his evidence that had nearly got him fired as part of a mind game Michael had planned for him. It had been Michael Wade's idea she claimed. No one knew whether to believe her.

She had taken an impression of Greg's house keys from his locker, knowing he never locked it and given it to her cousin. She had helped him set up the doll and used some of the equipment from the lab to make sure he had left no traces of evidence. From what she was saying she had told him enough about forensics for him to do the photograph collage by himself. She admitted to taking some of the photographs but she didn't know he was intending to continue his persecution of Greg. By the time she learnt he was missing she was in too deep to tell anyone. She knew she would become a suspect and so she had worked on trying to destroy any traces that might link her to the crime. She hadn't been able to do anything about the hair but had hung around hoping for an opportunity to fix the report. However Catherine's presence in the lab had hindered that. When Nick had come into the lab she knew she had been found out and left. Nick had cornered her in the parking lot and the rest they knew. She maintained the whole way through that she had never expected Michael to take it this far.

"Where does he live?"

She scrawled his address on a sheet of paper and handed it to Brass, exhaling deeply.

"What about his job?" Brass spoke again.

"He works for a tire factory. They put them in containers and send them up to the east coast to ship abroad."

Grissom raised his head sharply. "Containers?"

"Yeah uh big metal storage tanks."

But Grissom was already on his feet. "Do you know the name of the company?"

" Henley's."

Grissom left the room without a further word and entered the viewing section. They all turned to look at him. Brass had followed him and appeared behind him.

"I want every guy you've got free down to Henley's." Grissom said to Brass. The captain nodded.

"I'll send a patrol over to this guy's house as well. See if we can pick him up." Brass said as he headed out to organise it. Once the door was shut Grissom turned back to the team.

"You think he's in one of those containers?" Sara asked looking a little sick.

"It's a possibility." Grissom admitted. "And right now it's the only lead we have."

"If she's been working with the evidence on Greg's case…"Adrienne began but Grissom cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"It's not important now. We'll salvage what we can from this later. For now, let's just concentrate on finding Greg."

"Griss," Warrick started, "we are going to find him aren't we?"

Grissom met his eyes and sighed. "I don't know." A chill ran through all of them.

They packed up and set out within ten minutes. They took two SUVs out of the car pool and drove to their destination. The industrial site lay in the north of Vegas. It was a huge complex. The factory lay directly in front of them, tall chimneys rising on the horizon. It was just after six am and although the sun hadn't yet risen the morning shift was just beginning. The workers looked on baffled as several patrol cars screamed into the parking lot, sirens blurring, lights flashing. Brass jumped out and began immediately organizing his men. The CSIs followed Grissom out of the cars and grouped around him as the factory foreman appeared looking flustered. He was a tall man with a shaven head but he was garbed in a smart suit.

"What the hell's going on?" He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, completely overwhelmed by the police officers running around.

"Sir, we're with the LVPD." Brass pulled him off to one side and began explaining the situation.

Warrick glanced around, surveying the scene. It looked like a typical factory. Fork lift trucks were scattered around the yard, stacks of tires randomly piled against the out buildings. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Warrick's thoughts were broken as Brass walked back over to them.

"They use containers here. Shipping containers."

"But they're-" Sara began but stopped.

"Air tight." Brass concluded for her, his lip curling.

No one spoke. Greg had been missing for over ten hours now. Warrick didn't know how long the air lasted in those things but he guessed it wasn't ten hours.

"We have a bigger problem." Brass said leading them around the back of the factory.

The team followed him, wondering how this could get any worse. As they rounded the corner Warrick realised it had not only got worse but that they were screwed. As far as the eye could see was a field of containers. They went on forever. There must have been hundreds. Maybe even thousands.

"Shit." He mumbled.

"If Greg's in one of those..." Jack didn't finish. He didn't need to. They all knew what he was thinking. They were all thinking the same thing.

"Ok, guys. Fan out." Grissom had momentarily been paralysed with shock but he snapped out of it and took the lead. "Jim?"

Brass nodded soberly. "I know what to do Gil."

Everyone went to work. Warrick and Jack began on the first row, Catherine and Sara on the second, Adrienne and Grissom on the third. The uniforms dove in to help and the foreman offered the aid of his workers which they gratefully took. Grissom gave them strict instructions not to touch anything if they found Greg but to get him or one of the other officers.

The bolts of the containers were heavy and by the time Warrick had lifted the fifth one his shoulders were burning. He ignored the pain and continued on relentless. The clock was ticking. He just hoped Greg had enough time left. Jack helped him heave the bolt on the next container and drag the doors open. It was empty. They moved on quickly.

"Hey Brown?" Warrick glanced up from the bolt he was trying to move. Jack had moved away from the container into the pathway that separated the rows and had pulled his flash light out.

"What you got?"

"Shoe treads and drag marks." He said bending down to examine them further.

Warrick joined him instantly. Jack was right. He pulled his own light from the pocket on his vest and followed the markings up the pathway. His eyes roved back and forth as he followed the trail. Eventually it stopped outside a huge orange container. The door was padlocked. Warrick dragged his radio out, all but screaming into it.

"I found him! I need a lock cutter!"

Within minutes there were a dozen uniforms, Brass, and Grissom beside him. Adrienne, Sara and Catherine joined them a second later. A cop handed Warrick a set of cutters and Jack held the padlock whilst Warrick applied as much pressure as possible to the handles. After a moment the metal snapped and the lock dropped onto the dusty ground. Together him and Jack pulled the bolt back and pushed it up. His heart was pounding as he pulled the doors open. Several beams of light shone into the container from various flashlights.

Aside from a table it was empty. Warrick felt his stomach drop as he moved into it. As he got closer he saw a piece of paper. Written in black ink were the words 'TRY AGAIN'. He moved his light across the table and saw a photograph next to it. It was a Polaroid picture of Greg. He looked in bad shape. His head was tipped back, his face was heavily bruised. His eyes covered with a strip of black material. Blood was crusted onto his skin. Warrick stared at the picture for a moment until he realised the others had joined him.

"This bastards toying with us!" He was angry. He felt a hand rest on his arm and realised it was Catherine. Grissom was studying the photograph.

"The background of this photograph." He said after a moment. "He is in a container."

"Just not this one." Warrick snapped.

"Keep looking." Grissom said to the team before turning back to him. "We'll find him Warrick."

"Yeah? And when we do will we be calling for an EMT or David?"

Grissom didn't respond.

* * *

Greg was tired. More tired than he had ever felt in his entire life. He had given up any hope of being found. Now all he wanted to do was die. He wanted it to end. Death was the only end he saw.

He allowed his mind to recall things from his past. He remembered people from college. Family friends. The holiday his parents had taken him on to Europe. His ninth birthday party. His first bike. His first pet. Graduating with honors. The crime lab. Grissom, the guy he saw as a father figure. Catherine. The mom. She always looked after him. Nick, his best friend. Warrick. His older brother. Sara…

He didn't know when his tears had started but within seconds his blindfold was damp. He wondered if anyone would miss him. How he would be remembered. Strangely, what music would they play at his funeral. He would have to have an autopsy. It was protocol in these types of situations. He wondered what Doc Robbins would make of it. He could almost see it now. He felt sick.

Dimly he heard voices. He laughed to himself. He was going crazy. As the voices got nearer he heard Warrick shouting something. He giggled, feeling slightly hysterical. Maybe this was what happened before you died. He didn't know. He had never died.

After a minute the rational part of his mind realised he wasn't imagining it. He heard Grissom speaking although his voice was muffled. Raising his head off his chest he strained his ears and heard it again.

And then he began screaming. As loud as his aching lungs would allow him he shouted, ignoring his burning throat. He didn't care. He pushed every ache, every pain from his mind. Help was outside and he wasn't going to let it go.

* * *

Warrick strode out of the container feeling more than frustrated. Grissom followed him.

"Warrick-"

"Grissom this is BS!" He snapped, then taking a shuddering breath he spoke more calmly. "I really thought we had him."

He felt empty. Yet again, another dead end. Greg could be anywhere. More than likely he was dead. Warrick didn't want to think that but it was becoming more and more likely as the minutes ticked by.

"We all did." Grissom gave him a small smile. "If he's here, we'll find him, Warrick."

Warrick watched the team filtering off to continue the search. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, something catching his ears. Grissom furrowed his brow, his expression searching but Warrick had already moved towards it. He heard it again. This time the source of it was obvious. It was shouting. Warrick and Grissom were running before either of them said a word. As they approached the container behind the orange one they heard it clearly. It was Greg. No mistaking it. Warrick was already reaching for the bolt as Grissom moved to help him. Flinging it up they dragged the door open.

"Jesus Christ." Was all Warrick managed to say. Grissom didn't say anything. He just stared.

Greg was sat toward the back of the container. His eyes were covered as they had been in the photograph, his face a mass of black and purple contusions. His legs were bound to the chair with what looked like wire and his hands were tied similarly behind the back of it. Greg tipped his head down as the light hit his face.

It took a minute but Grissom snapped out of it first and was instantly at Greg's side, pulling his blindfold off. His eyes were swollen shut. He was a mess. The sight of him only heightened Warrick's anger.

"Greg?" Grissom spoke softly and after a moment he opened his eyes as much as he could and gazed at them drunkenly through tiny slits.

"Are you real?" Greg mumbled. His voice sounded thick and pained.

Grissom actually laughed. "Yeah. We're real."

"I thought… I was… going crazy."

"What do you mean going crazy?" Warrick joked, trying to keep his own emotions under control. It was difficult. Greg looked like hell.

"I'd… really like... to go home." Greg slurred, dropping his head onto his chest.

"Ok, buddy." Warrick dropped his hand onto his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, his own eyes welling up. "We'll get you out of here, ok?"

Grissom pulled his radio out, his eyes still on Greg. "Brass? I need an EMT now. We've got him."

Both men let out a sigh of relief. They had found Greg and he was alive. That he was able to talk was a good sign. It was finally over.


	23. Chapter 23

**Epilogue**

Nick had come out of the whole thing with nothing more than a couple of broken ribs and a fracture wrist. His legs were bruised but his torso had taken the most of the impact. The doctor, a nice middle aged man by the name of Dr Tanner, said he could go home in twenty-four hours.

Greg on the other hand had a severe concussion, a deep cut on his arm and bruising pretty much everywhere. It was the wound to his side that had caused the most concern. The doctors were in with him now trying to decide if he had any internal bleeding. It was scary. They had been through so much in the last twelve hours that in the quiet stillness of the hospital it seemed like another life time ago.

Sara halted her pacing and sank into the chair in the waiting room. Waiting room. It was one of those things that did exactly what it said on the tin. They had been waiting in here for what seemed like an age. After a moment the door opened and instead of the doctor they had been expecting Warrick wheeled Nick in. he was fairly messed up, his arm was in a cast, and he was a little pale but he looked ok. Catherine gave them both a level stare.

"Should you be out of bed?"

Warrick looked a little bashful but Nick shrugged slightly. "I'm going nuts in there. Besides, it's not like I'm 'up' up. I got my own ride." He said taping the side of the wheelchair.

"Nice to see you're feeling better." Grissom said with a slight smirk.

"Yeah it's amazing how quickly you can get over being hit by a car when you taste what qualifies as food in this place."

Everyone laughed. It was a rare moment. No one had laughed for the last twelve hours. It was nice.

"How's Greg?" Warrick asked, positioning Nick so he could see everyone before dropping into a chair himself.

"He's with the doctors." Grissom said, not elaborating. In truth that was all they knew but the way he said it was almost as if he was holding back information.

"Crazy night." Nick muttered. Everyone nodded. It had been insane.

"Just another day at the office." Grissom replied with a quirk of his brow.

"What's going to happen now?"

"Emily's being charged. Brass' guys are still out looking for Michael Wade."

"I'll sleep a lot easier once that nut is safely behind bars." Warrick grunted. He was still troubled over the whole thing. It had not been easy seeing Greg like that.

"We'll get him." Grissom replied confidently.

They all stopped talking as the door opened and Dr Tanner entered. He closed it softly behind him and gave Nick a fleeting look before taking a seat. Nick had the decency to at least look embarrassed.

"How is he?" Catherine asked before he had a chance to speak.

"He's doing ok. He's lost a lot of blood but we're transfusing him at the moment. He might be anaemic for a while so I'll prescribe him some iron tablets. I couldn't find any internal bleeding, it's mostly bruising so he'll be sore for a while. Mostly I think he'll need a lot of rest and I'm recommending two weeks off work but truthfully it could have been a lot worse. He was lucky."

Sara couldn't see how he was lucky. He had been abducted, beaten to crap and left to die.

"Thank you Dr Tanner." Grissom said politely. "Can we see him?"

"Of course, but please remember he needs rest so keep it short."

Grissom assured him they would. They all piled down the corridor and into Greg's room. He was propped up in the bed. His face badly bruised, a bandage wrapped around his head and one around his arm. He had his swollen eyes closed but they fluttered open slightly when he heard the commotion of the five of them trying to squeeze into the tiny room. Especially considering Warrick was having some trouble trying to navigate Nick's chair.

"Do you drive this bad?" Nick said once the other man had finally got him into place at the head of Greg's bed. Warrick shrugged.

"The wheels are all wrong on this damn thing."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Greg." Catherine kissed him on the cheek. "How you doing?"

Greg had watched the entire exchange with an impassive look on his face glanced up at Catherine.

"I'm ok." He said with a slight smile that indicated he was anything but fine. No one pushed him however. They were all just glad he was alive. He glanced at Nick and pulled a face.

"What happened to you?" He croaked out. His throat was still raw.

"I picked a fight with something bigger than me." When Greg looked baffled, Nick continued. "I'm fine, man. The only thing that got really damaged was my pride. I think I left that under the wheels of Emily's car."

Greg looked even more baffled but Grissom spoke before he could ask any more. "We'll talk about it later. When you're feeling better."

His tone left no room for discussion but in all honesty Greg was too exhausted to push the point anyway. He caught Sara's eye and gave her a small smile which she returned briefly. She looked tired, and worried.

"Do you think we get accident pay from the lab for this?" Nick asked suddenly. Grissom looked momentarily amused.

"Why don't you ask Ecklie? I'm sure he'll be happy to discuss it with you."

Nick pulled a face indicating he didn't agree and let it drop. They continued talking about menial issues for a while before Grissom told them it was time to leave. Told being the word, he practically ordered them from the room. Sara didn't move immediately and Grissom turned back, giving her a knowing gaze before leaving himself. For a moment neither of them spoke.

"I'm glad you're ok." Sara said. "I was so worried about you."

"I was pretty worried about myself." Greg admitted quietly. "I really thought that was the end for me."

She moved closer to him, reaching out to touch him but she pulled her hand back at the last minute. Instead she took a seat.

"We never gave up on you."

"I know." He said. "Thank you." He truly meant it as well.

She gave him a faint smile. "You'll be ok, you know?"

He took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. "I know. It's just a lot to get my head around. Its not every day some crazy lunatic tries to kill you."

Usually she would have given him a frustrated glare for talking like that but she didn't. She merely sighed. Greg would be ok. It would take time but she had no doubts in her mind that he would pull through this. She also knew it wasn't just Greg who would carry the scars of this incident. The entire team would. They had been betrayed by one of their own and it had nearly cost Greg his life. It was no wonder they didn't trust new people.

"I know Grissom doesn't want me to know but I have to. What happened?" Greg asked.

Sara paused, wondering if she should tell him but finally relented. She told him everything. About Emily helping Michael, how she had fixed the evidence to stop him being caught, how she had stolen his keys. She didn't leave anything out. She didn't think she could face telling it again. When she had finished she watched him carefully waiting for a response but he didn't speak for a long time. Sara began to worry she had made a mistake telling him but then he sighed.

"I guess that means we're down a DNA tech."

"I guess so." Sara replied.

He laughed suddenly. Sara frowned at him, wondering if he had lost his mind.

"I guess what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger huh?"

Sara gave him a strange look. "Yeah, I suppose so." She shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a magnet for trouble?"

He laughed again and after a moment she joined him. The last twelve hours had been madness but it was over now. All they had to do was put the pieces of their lives back together again.

* * *

**A/N** well folks, this is the end. sorry its gone at break neck speed. I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks to everyone who took the time to review your comments were really appreciated. Considering this was my first CSI Fanfic I think it went pretty well! I'm thinking of writing a sequel so watch this space!


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